See No Evil
by Isabelle
Summary: Set after ‘Bad News Blair’, an accident leads Chuck to loose his sight. Him and Blair slowly grow closer as she helps him adjust to the loss of his sight. Chuck/Blair.
1. When We Were Heroes

**When We Where** **Heroes** (Chapter 1 of _See No Evil_)

Author: Isabelle

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Gossip Girl characters; this is just for a fun & entertainment.

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Set after 'Bad New Blair', an accident leads Chuck to loose his sight. Him and Blair slowly grow closer as she helps him adjust to the loss of his sight. Chuck/Blair.

A/N: Special thanks to my BETA, Tati.

--

_"Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light." Helen Keller_

They entered her room laughing, still dressed in their blue and red dresses.

"Can you imagine her face?" She asked Serena as the blonde threw herself on her bed.

"She's going to be furious!" Serena let out, her blonde mane spread around her. Blair dropped next to her and sighed.

"I haven't had this much fun in so long," she admitted and turned her head to look at Serena.

"Me neither," Serena admitted and gave her a smile.

"I mean, Chuck was great as a BFF, but there's something odd about playing dress up with him."

They burst out laughing.

"BFFs forever?" Serena asked her, and Blair reached out to grasp her hand.

"Forever."

They chatted idly as Dorota brought them cookies and skim milk. She looked outside and noticed it was getting darker. She hadn't heard from her boyfriend.

This was not unusual these days. It seemed like he would disappear for hours and she wouldn't hear from him. It bothered her, of course, but she didn't want to become the overbearing girlfriend. The one that called him 100 times a day to find out what he was doing.

"I haven't heard from Nate." It was 7 pm by the time she confessed this to Serena.

"Call him." Serena munched on some carrots now as she idly flipped through magazines and texted back and forth with Dan.

"I don't want to be needy girlfriend," Blair explained, sitting next to Serena, almost envious of the back and forth texting between Serena and Dan.

"Just say what's up. Lost weekend ended this morning, right?"

Blair nodded.

Maybe if she called Chuck and asked what they were up to, maybe that wouldn't be so needy. Ok, she liked this plan. Call Chuck, ask about Nate. No needy girlfriend title.

Except Chuck would totally know she was being needy. Ugh, she hated that bastard sometimes.

She called his number, and it went to voicemail.

Dammit. He was probably passed out in a sea of hoes.

They decided to watch Roman Holiday because Blair loved it and Serena tolerated it. Serena had wanted to watch When Harry Met Sally, but Blair bristled. Friends didn't fall in love, she had said. You either fell in love with someone at first sight, or it didn't happen. Love was magical.

Serena dropped it because she always lost this argument.

Audrey & Gregory were getting photographed as they rode in a vespa when her phone finally rang. It was Nate.

"Finally!" She said, and Serena paused the film.

"I was feeling neglected," she said in her Nate-voice.

He was unnaturally quiet.

"Blair?"

His voice sounded hoarse. She instantly sat up.

"What's wrong?"

Serena perked up and listened to her.

She was hearing his words, but she felt her body numb.

"…And they came out of nowhere, and they set the limo on fire, and before I knew it, I was out. Apparently Chuck pulled me out…"

"Oh my God!" She cried, hand over her mouth.

"What's wrong?" Serena pulled her sleeve.

"Nate and Chuck were attacked, and Chuck's limo was set on fire!" She quickly explained.

"Are you hurt?" She demanded from him.

"I have a broken arm-"

"Oh my God!"

"What?" Serena was desperate.

"Blair, listen, I'm fine. I'm just bruised, and I have a bad headache."

She was shaking.

"Ok, I'm listening," she said, giving Serena a look to calm her down.

"It's just that… Chuck…"

Her stomach felt empty.

"What happened to him?" She demanded.

"Something happened to his face, Blair. They won't tell me what. Can you come?" He was almost whispering. So very quiet. "Bart's out of the country, and they haven't been able to reach him."

"Yes, we'll be right there."

She hung up and turned to Serena.

"B, you're pale."

"We need to get to the hospital," she said quickly, jumping off the bed and grabbing her coat and shoes.

"What happened?" Serena followed her lead as the DVD case of When Harry Met Sally slid to the floor.

Blair told Serena what she knew as they held hands on the way to the hospital. Blair herself tried to call Bart a few times, but to no avail.

It wasn't until Serena called her own mother that Lily said she would try to find Bart. This worked because Lily called them back and said Bart was on his way to New York, but it would be a few hours.

--

When they arrived at the hospital, Blair had to remind half the staff that the Waldorfs were on the charity committee and had been there for over fifty years. They were then allowed to see Nate, who had just finished getting dressed and out of the hospital gown they had placed him in.

She threw herself into his arms and attempted very hard not to cry. But seeing his bruised face and arm in a cast did her in. Plus, there was incredible guilt and sadness in his eyes.

"I'm fine, Blair," he tried to console her as he patted her back and gave Serena a small smile.

She calmed down. She wasn't going to make a _total_ fool out of herself. Especially not around hospital staff.

She sat next to Nate, holding his good hand as he listened to the doctor go over his prescriptions.

When the doctor left, she turned to him.

"What happened?" She asked quietly.

He swallowed and looked away.

A nurse interrupted them at that moment. She peeked in with a clipboard at hand.

"Your friend is out of intensive care. You can go see him now if you like, but only for a minute." She smiled at Nate, and Nate nodded, instantly dropping her hand and walking to the door.

She and Serena followed him as the nurse led them through a maze. They finally made it to a closed door.

"Only one," the nurse told them, and Blair nodded for Nate to go ahead. Both girls watched from the window as Nate slowly walked up to a sleeping Chuck. Chuck was in a hospital gown, and his head was covered in gauze. He looked like a mummy, Blair thought. However, this didn't faze her. She knew Chuck. He would bounce back and all would be well in no time. In a few days, when she brought him flowers and his homework, she would find a nurse straddling him. She would insult him and be upset, and then tell him her latest Nate problem.

That's how it was supposed to go.

Nate talked to Chuck for a bit, and then the nurse interrupted him. Nate glanced one last time at his friend and then walked to the girls.

"Bart's on his way," Blair told him when he sat outside with them.

It wasn't half an hour after that the Archibald driver arrived to pick Nate up. His parents were nowhere in sight.

She saw Nate's jaw clench.

"I should stay until Bart arrives," Nate told them.

"No! You're hurt, Nate!" Serena said, and Blair nodded in agreement.

"So is Chuck!" And she saw the anger radiating off him.

Something else was going on, and she had yet to be let on it. She would get it out of Chuck once he woke up, she decided. So she volunteered to stay.

"I'll stay, Nate. Go home, and I'll call you once he wakes," she urged him.

"No," he stated, and then winced when he tried to cross his arms.

"Go." She ushered him out.

Serena next to her yawned and Nate noticed. Blair noticed that, too.

"C'mon, I'll take you home," he told Serena. He turned to her and blinked. "Call me the moment he wakes."

Blair pursed her lips and nodded. "I promise."

She stood there and watched her boyfriend and her best friend walk slowly behind the driver. That insane little pit in the bottom of her stomach shivered.

She turned to Chuck's room and sighed. She looked in through the window. He looked the same. The heart monitor told her that his hollow heart was still beating, and the slow rising and falling of his chest told her he would spring back in no time.

"What exactly were you two doing?" She asked quietly.

A nurse passed by her and studied her. "You want to go in and sit with him?"

Blair quickly shook her head.

"I'm waiting for his father to arrive," she explained quickly.

"Are you sure? If he wakes, I'm sure he'd like his girlfriend to be next to him."

Blair let out a laugh. Chuck and girlfriends were things that just didn't mix. "That guy is incapable of having a girlfriend. I'm just a frienemy."

--

So she sat on the hard plastic chair outside. Leave it to Chuck to keep her up at 3 am, annoyed, hungry, and worried.

Not that she was worried about him. Knowing Chuck, he would use the facial scars to his advantage. He would make this heroic story up that would have girls dropping their panties faster than they normally did. She didn't know why they did it. But they did. A few even did it in her presence.

Sluts.

She was dozing off at 3:45 am when Bart finally came in through the doors.

"Blair?" He looked down at her and took in her bedraggled appearance.

"Mr. Bass!" She sat up, running her hand unconsciously over her curls. She was a mess. And to think that a few hours ago, she thought she would be a model. "I was waiting for you to arrive."

Bart said nothing but turned to Chuck's room.

"Has he woken?" He asked her.

Blair shook her head.

"Any word on his condition?" He asked, taking off his gloves.

"He's a minor. They wouldn't release any information."

She watched as Bart looked into Chuck's window. He didn't enter.

"I'll find a doctor," she volunteered, and he nodded without looking at her.

When the doctor was found, he took Bart aside and explained to him in hush tones about Chuck's condition. Of course she was going to eavesdrop. Not that she cared, but what else was she going to do at 4 am?

"Severe eye trauma," she heard and blanched.

"Slim chances of him regaining his sight-"

And she sat there cold.

"We'll have to do some test-"

Oh my.

--

It was exactly seventeen hours later that Chuck Bass finally woke.

She had just arrived back at the hospital and found her pale-looking boyfriend staring ahead.

They had told him about Chuck's apparent blindness not long ago. She had brought the blind bastard flowers. But he wouldn't be able to see them.

This made her so sad that she didn't know whether to feel pity for the guy or wonder if this was karma getting back at him.

"I brought him flowers," she stated the obvious as she sat next to Nate. Nate continued to stare straight ahead.

"Have you talked to him?" She asked, and Nate shook his head.

"He's asleep again." Nate's voice was monotone.

"Ok," she said quietly and decided to venture into the room. Chuck asleep was safe.

She opened the door as quietly as her 4 inch heels would let her. There were already tons of flowers, as well as some teddies and balloons.

From his sluts, most likely. She scoffed.

She walked to the side of his bed, took out a trashy-looking bouquet (daisies, really!), and set it on the floor. She placed her elegant purple hydrangeas on the table and smiled at them. Much better. She was such a good friend.

Next to her, he stirred and she went stock still.

She hadn't really looked at him. They had removed some of the gauze from his face and all that was left was a thick white band over his eyes. She saw some red welts around the bandages, and she winced in sympathy. His arm was also bandaged. Apparently he had some minor burns on his hand. _Poor fool_, she shook her head.

Knowing him, he would probably still get laid, blind and all. She grimaced. A blind Chuck was going to bring her party down.

She sniffled, looked around the room, and exited. Her boyfriend needed her right now.

--

She was there a few hours later when Chuck was told he was blind. His father wasn't around, but Nate was and she was with Nate. She was such a good girlfriend. Of course, said girlfriend ignored the way Nate couldn't seem to touch her. At all.

Nate stood outside as she heard Chuck bark to the nurses to leave him alone.

Nate stood outside his door for two hours, hands in his pockets, not daring to go in.

"You won't tell me what happened?" She asked him when he finally sat down.

Nate stared at the door and shook his head.

He was infuriating. She was just going to have to get it out of Chuck. Chuck was many things, but he was not a liar. Chuck would tell her the truth.

When Nate decided to take a walk, she sulked and stared at the door. She was supposed to be at home preparing her sleepover.

The whole school was abuzz with what had happened to Chuck. Blair had even seen some skanks crying together. Pathetic. Honestly.

I mean, yes, she understood. She got a slight bump in her throat when she looked in on him sleeping. But he was Chuck Bass. Bastard extraordinaire. But not worth crying over.

She scoffed at them and glared.

She looked down at her watch. 11:45pm. She should be in bed, not in a hospital. She would leave, but she felt kind of bad leaving Chuck alone when Nate was taking a random walk.

It was then that his scream startled her.

She sat up and walked to Chuck's room. His head was moving violently from side to side, and he was yelling.

Oh, God!

She looked around for a nurse but, of course, they were all on lunch break or screwing each other like they did on Grey's Anatomy.

She made an executive decision. She walked in and quickly went over to Chuck. He was probably dreaming, because he kept muttering nonsense. She would've smacked him if he wasn't a poor blind bastard.

So she yelled back.

"Chuck!" She cried.

He trashed some more.

"Wake up!" She reached out and shook his shoulders. That's when his hands went up and grabbed her upper arms, startling the hell out of her.

"Help me."

And he said it so desperately that she was pretty sure she would faint.

And then he was awake. She could tell because his hands felt different on her arms. Like he was feeling her, trying to figure out who it was he was holding.

"Chuck?" Her voice was shaky. "It's ok. You were dreaming."

God, she was soothing Chuck Bass.

He fell back on the bed, his head sideways as he licked his lips.

"Blair?" His voice was hoarse. She quickly grabbed the water pitcher next to his bed and filled a gross-looking cup.

"Here, have some water," she said rather forcefully, and she noticed that he instantly grimaced. His hand reached out… blindly.

That's when she let herself feel sorry for him, because he looked so sad trying to grasp the cup.

Oh God, Chuck was blind. She bit her lip as she reached out and placed her hand behind his head, helping him up.

"Here," she said quietly, bringing the cup to his lips. He drank greedily.

"More," he asked, and she nodded, filling the cup once more and repeating the act.

When he was done with the second cup, he leaned back and she pulled her hands away. She had been touching him.

She swallowed.

"What time is it?" He asked, and she was startled. She looked down at her watch.

"Almost 12. Midnight." She studied his face. He turned his head the other way and then back to her direction.

They were quiet.

"What are you doing here, Waldorf?" He asked, and there was sharpness to his voice.

Somehow this made her feel better because the pathetic Chuck that begged for help made something awful happen to her stomach.

"Nate is here." She said lamely.

"Of course," he snapped.

She glared at him and his bandages. This was definitely karma.

"Are you two the only ones here?" He asked before his head turned away.

She knew what he meant. Was his father here. His father wasn't here, and this made the awful feeling come back to her stomach.

"Yes," she said after a moment. "Nate's been here almost the entire time."

She saw his jaw clenched.

He was quiet for a moment.

"Go home, Waldorf," he finally said.

"Chuck-"

"I said go home." He was forceful this time.

She stood and saw him flinch.

"I brought you flowers, you ungrateful bastard!" She snapped.

"Yes, I _saw_ them. They were lovely. Hydrangeas?" He was dripping with sarcasm.

But his words cut her like a knife, and she had to look away because at that moment she wasn't sure whether to slap him or hug him. So she stalked out.

--

_They r releasing him today._ Nate texted her, and her stomach felt a bit sour.

What would Chuck do now? He lived in a suite by himself. Bart had probably gotten him a full time nurse that he was sure to be fucking in no time.

It didn't matter, it wasn't her problem. She was too busy planning her Masquerade outfit, and after the success of her sleepover, she was under severe pressure to get this right.

She needed to look flawless. The Masquerade was in a week, and Nate was more distant than ever. She was determined to fix this. Determined. She could fix her and Nate, and she would not let Chuck get in the way.

Regardless of how sorry she felt for the guy.

When Nate started disappearing, she became curious. So she went hunting for him in the only place she thought he would be. At Chuck's.

She grimaced as she got in the elevator and up to the top floor.

She swore even his elevator smelled of sex.

Not that she knew what sex smelled like. Did sex have a smell?

She gingerly knocked on 1812 and waited for the nurse to open the door. She waited. And waited.

And knocked again. More forcefully.

He had to be there. Where else would he go? Maybe he was _busy_. Ugh.

She turned to leave, when she heard some stumbling and then finally the door was opened.

She let out a squeak and gasped.

Chuck was almost naked. Almost. Boxer-briefs covering his slightly erect penis and bandages over his eyes. He looked utterly like hell.

"Who is it?" He demanded.

He was also drunk as hell.

"Blair," she said quietly. She shouldn't have come.

Where was his nurse? Was he alone? She was so confused.

He relaxed his shoulder and absently scratched his balls. She scrunched up her nose.

"Nate's not here," he told her and went to close the door.

She got her answer. She should leave. She had to pick out some jewelry. She was busy.

"Are you by yourself?" She asked. What happened to walking away?

He sighed, and his jaw twitched. He placed one hand on his hip.

"What do you want?" He asked, his head bent down.

He looked so broken. So unlike Chuck that she wasn't sure how to act around him. She fidgeted and bit her lip.

"Look. I don't need any pity," he said quietly. "So please just go."

"Where's your nurse?" She asked, stepping forward ever so slightly. He felt her and backed up. She raised her eyebrow.

"I heard you were busy planning your party, Waldorf. Off with you." He motioned with his hand. His burnt hand.

She took a deep breath and pushed past him into his suite.

She scrunched up her face. The place was a disgusting mess.

"Out, out," he said behind her, but she stayed away from his reach. This pissed him off and he slammed the door shut. He leaned his bare back on it, crossing his arms over his hairy chest.

"You haven't let housekeeping in," she noted.

"I want to be alone," he spit out. "In case you haven't noticed."

She noticed bottles everywhere but no cups.

"Drinking right out of the bottle now, are we?" She quipped and walked to his bar.

"It's easier than stumbling for a cup."

She turned to look at him. He was in the same position. He hadn't moved.

"Come here," she said and saw his jaw twitch.

"I'd rather not," he replied.

"Where's your nurse?" She asked again.

"I don't need a fucking nurse," he snapped.

"How are you getting along?" She asked, coming closer to him.

"Just fine."

She stood before him and reached out to grab his hand. He flinched and pulled away.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly after a while.

He stood there, breathing and just standing.

"I don't need pity-"

"It's not pity!"

"It's fucking pity and I hate it!" He yelled, and his face was so close to hers that she reeled back.

"Fine!" She yelled right back.

"Leave!" He demanded.

His words did something to her that she hadn't expected. So she slapped him and instantly regretted it because he still had welts.

He gasped and pulled back. His mouth was set in a grimace.

"I'm sorry," she said instantly. "I'm sorry."

His jaw clenched.

"Oh God, I'm sorry, Chuck – I didn't mean it!"

He listened to her.

"Just… God, let me help you."

He pulled back from her and grasped the wall as he attempted to walk into the room. He tripped over some clothes on the floor, and she reached out to help him.

He growled, and she instantly let him go.

"Do you mind not looking at me?" He snapped as he steadied himself against a couch.

She swallowed and looked down. He finally sat down on the couch and reached out blindly for a bottle that was there. Half empty, where he had left it.

"Chuck…" She walked closer.

He sighed.

"What do you want, Waldorf?" He sounded so exhausted that she really had no answer to give him.

What did you say to a friend who was now blind? A strong friend that listened when you had all these problems but never shared their problems with you?

She took a seat next to him and grabbed a pair of pants from the floor. They were yellow and looked clean. Clean enough.

"Here, put these on," she said quietly and took the bottle from his hands. He resisted at first, then gave in and grabbed the pants. He had some trouble with them, getting annoyed pretty quickly as he attempted to find the front side of them. She reached out and put them in his hands the right way.

He grimaced once more. He hated this more than she hated it.

"I'm calling housekeeping. If you're not going to let anyone help you, then the floor needs to be clean before you kill yourself trying to walk around here," she told him forcefully. He bristled, but listened as she called housekeeping and gave them strict instructions of what they had to do.

When she hung up, she turned to him.

"Goodbye," he said and leaned back on the couch.

This pissed her off.

"When did you last shower?" She demanded.

This brought a smirk to his face. She rolled her eyes.

"Volunteering a sponge bath?"

She let out a breath.

"Leave it to you," she stated and sat down next to him again.

"I mean, if you're asking, I thought…." He let out a chuckle and this somehow pleased her, because her Chuck enjoyed other people's misery.

"C'mon. I'll grab some underwear and clean clothes. You need to shower." She pulled his arm and led him to the bedroom.

"I don't like this," he said when she stood before him in the bathroom.

"I don't like it, either," she said and placed his folded clothes on top of the toilet. "Your clothes are here." She placed his hands over the clothes and then turned him to face the shower. "The shower is in here."

He sighed.

"I'll leave the door unlocked. Don't slip because I won't come in and rescue you."

--

When Chuck exited, she had just hung up the phone and turned to him. She smiled because he looked like a mess. His shirt wasn't tucked in, the buttons were not aligned right, and he was barefoot.

She walked around the maids clearing the mess and towards him. She took the dirty clothes from his hands and handed them to a maid.

"They're cleaning your room," she explained as he looked around, trying to figure out what was happening.

"You have about ten women in your room," she smirked at him.

"I've had more," he responded and let her fix his buttons.

"Tuck your shirt in," she told him once he was buttoned correctly.

"What for?"

"Because we're heading out," she explained.

"No," he snapped.

"Yes."

If he could glare he would. This made her a bit sad. He would never glare at her again. Chuck really did glare the best. His glare had rivaled hers.

"I need company," she stated, getting some shoes from his closet. His closet was bigger than hers, honestly!

'I don't." He sat down on the bed carefully, and she handed him socks.

She placed his shoes next to him and then went hunting for a belt. The maids were done and said they would be back at 9 am sharp.

"I know you don't want a nurse," she began as she sorted through his bowties. "But one is coming regardless everyday at 3 pm. Once you're back from school."

She was satisfied with the small yellow bowtie she picked.

She turned to him and saw his hands buried in his hair.

She sighed and sat next to him, looking down at his untied shoelaces.

"Chuck," she said quietly, touching his arm. He pulled away and she let out a huff. "You can't sit around feeling sorry for yourself!"

He turned his head to her and set his lips straight.

"What would you do, huh?" He demanded, and she looked away. He was right. She would be suicidal.

"Ok. Fine," she agreed and tapped his leg. "But while you wallow, can you please tie your shoes?"

He groaned and bent down to tie his shoes.

She studied his bandage.

"When can you take this off?" She asked, touching the band slightly. He flinched, and she pulled back.

"I can already take it off. I have prescription sunglasses," he said quietly. But taking the band off meant it was real. She understood.

She nodded. "Here." She handed him his bowtie. He felt it in his hand and let out a breath.

"You're going to have to do it. I need a mirror."

She pulled him up and started his bowtie. It just wasn't Chuck without his bowtie.

That's how Nate found them. She had finished tying his bow-tie, and she was smiling up at him. She was fixing his lapels and somehow his hands had landed on her waist. To steady himself.

"Nate!" She turned to her boyfriend, and Chuck's hands quickly dropped from her waist.

There was a look Blair had never seen on Nate's face. It was a confusion mixed with… suspicion.

"I thought you didn't need a nurse," Nate spat out. And Chuck flinched, pulling away from her and feeling his way to the bathroom. She grimaced when he stumbled a bit and then turned to glare at Nate.

She rolled her eyes and walked past her boyfriend.

"I've been calling you all day," she told him as she grabbed the door.

Nate didn't answer.

"Chuck, we'll go out another time," she called back over her shoulder. He was fine now, now Nate was there and Nate could keep him company. She felt bad, she had dressed him and everything and now he had nowhere to go.

But she was busy. She needed to pick out jewelry. She took out her phone and called Jenny. She would be kept busy by making others busy.

--

To be continued.

A/N - This is my first time writing in the past, meaning re-writing parts of the show. So Im a bit nervous but hopefully it'll turn out in chracter; which is my biggest fear :) I hope you all enjoy it. I'm currently working on Chapter 3 and I will post Chapter 2 once 3 is done. That's the way I publish. Thank you all for the feedback!


	2. Lazarus, Come Forth

**Lazarus, Come Forth** (Chapter 2 of _See No Evil_)

Author: Isabelle

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Gossip Girl characters; this is just for a fun & entertainment.

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Set after 'Bad New Blair', an accident leads Chuck to loose his sight. Him and Blair slowly grow closer as she helps him adjust to the loss of his sight. Chuck/Blair.

A/N: Special thanks to my BETA, Tati

--

"_There's none so blind as they that won't see." – Jonathan Swift_

It was three days later when she decided to visit him again. He was, after all, a friend. A friend who had missed school. She had a freshman collect all his homework and bring it to her.

She was surprised to find the door slightly ajar and another voice in the room. A female voice. Her stomach did something odd. She swore that if she walked in on him, she would never let him live it down – blindness or no blindness.

But there he was, sitting on his bed with Nurse Hilda standing before him, putting him in his place.

"And you were told, you were," Hilda huffed. "Did you listen? No."

Next to Chuck were Hilda's instruments. Some scissors, some cloths, and some antibiotics.

Blair cleared her throat.

"Who are you?" Hilda demanded, scissors in one hand and the other on her hip.

"Blair."

"Blair," Chuck said, and Hilda raised her eyebrow at Chuck.

"Girlfriend?" Hilda demanded.

Chuck let out a laugh. "Best friend's girlfriend."

Hilda looked back and forth between the two. "Must have yourself a good man there, Miss Blair, if he's letting you go on about appearing in little skirts in young gentlemen's hotel rooms. Especially ones like this one."

Chuck laughed, and Hilda began cutting the bandages over his eyes.

"You come here often, girl?" Hilda asked her as she came closer.

"Sometimes," Blair admitted, and placed Chuck's homework on his desk. "I brought you your homework."

"Ain't she nice," Hilda said, and Chuck flinched when she began pulling at his bandages. "Hold still, lover boy. Take it like a man."

Blair didn't know if he would want her there. Maybe she should go. She had completed her visit. She had given him his homework. But, somehow, the way he was flexing his hand as the bandages started to come off made her stay rooted in the spot.

Hilda tutted. There was only one more layer left, and Blair could see the skin was inflamed.

"I tell you," Hilda said under her breath. "You're going to downright hate me after I'm done trying to fix you up."

"Fuck, that hurts!" Chuck let out, pulling away from Hilda. The large woman sighed and glared down at him.

"If you had been doing this properly, this wouldn't be happening!" Hilda challenged.

Chuck swallowed and let her peel back the rest of the bandage. Blair stepped forward. The skin around his eyes was puffy and looked swollen. His eyes were closed and looked slightly blistered.

Blair winced when he tried to flutter his eyes and failed.

Chuck hissed.

Hilda was shaking her head, upset. "Unbelievable. Here you are, throwing tantrums and you're letting your eyes get infected. Keep your eyes closed."

Chuck's jaw twitched as she began dabbing the area around the eye with a soaked cotton ball. "You have to do this twice a day. Twice."

Hilda turned and looked at Blair.

"Come here."

Blair stepped forward. This woman reminded her of Dorota.

"You listen good, he needs to do this twice a day, and he needs to rinse his eyes once a day. I'm going to show you 'cause I don't trust him."

"I can do it," Chuck ground out.

"Sure you can," Hilda snapped. Hilda showed Blair how to cleanse the area around the eye and once or twice had to tell Chuck to be still as he fidgeted whenever something bothered him.

"Now…" Hilda picked up a weird-looking cup. "You fill this half way." She poured some milky substance into the cup, and Blair nodded. "Now, he ain't going to like this." She threw Chuck a glare, and Chuck crossed his arms. "But he needs to do it once a day. Every day until I say so."

Blair looked at Chuck, who sat there looking very much like he wanted to fire the woman. Blair had a feeling that Hilda would ignore him or possibly hurt him if he tried to fire her.

"Lean forward," Hilda instructed him, and Chuck finally obeyed after debating it for a minute. She carefully placed the cup over his left eye. He flinched. "Steady. Now, easy – easy." She slowly tilted Chuck back, and the liquid covered his eye. "Ok, take a breath."

Chuck did. "Now open your eye."

It took him a moment and he finally did. He let out a yelp, clenching and unclenching his hands in the air. He wanted to grab Hilda and definitely hurt her.

"Steady." Hilda held the cup in place as he almost dislodged it. "It's infected, alright." She turned to Blair. "Hold his head and the cup in place. He needs to keep it there for at least a minute. I know it hurts, boo, but you gotta do it."

Blair reached out with trembling hands and sunk her fingers into his hair. She felt him stiffen and then replaced her hand on the cup when Hilda removed hers.

"Blink, keep blinking," Hilda instructed him. It took him a few seconds, but he blinked again. Blair attempted to ignore the tear that fell from his other eye, but it fell on her skin and burned her.

They were all silent as Chuck blinked a few more times before Hilda instructed her to bring his head back down and give him a breather.

"I would let him do it, but I don't trust him." Hilda prepared another cup as Blair tossed the used one.

Chuck almost touched his eye before Blair grabbed his hands and pulled them down. For some reason, his fingers stayed in hers until Hilda handed her the next cup.

"Ok, Chuck," Blair said, letting go of his hands and taking his head once more. He leaned forward and let her place the cup on his right eye. His jaw twitched as she tilted his head back. His hands came to rest on her legs as she stood between his own. "Ok, blink," she told him quietly. He took a deep breath.

When he did his fingers grasped her legs—this was hurting him. She bit her lip. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"He'll be fine. After a few days, it shouldn't hurt that much," Hilda admonished and began cleaning up after herself.

They stood there for a minute, with her hand in his hair as she held the cup and him holding onto her legs whenever he blinked. Without noticing, she began to softly pet his hair whenever he had to blink. It was all she could think of doing to help him out.

She realized what she was doing when she saw Hilda staring at them with a raised brow. She quickly stopped the petting, and he must've noticed her stiffen because he dropped his hands.

He looked elated to finally have the cup off his eye. His eyes were still closed and Blair moved away when Hilda went to look over him. "Open your eyes, kid."

Chuck's jaw twitched, and he slowly slid them open.

They were still Chuck's eyes, but they were so vacant that she had to look away. The overbearing sadness that inundated her was taking over her entire being. She didn't know how to act around him any more. This was something that flowers couldn't fix.

"You've got some pretty eyes there," Hilda told him and smiled. "I'm done for today. You say you don't need me everyday, so I won't come. But you better keep the regiment, or you could risk losing the entire eye."

"What's the point?" Chuck snapped and turned his head away.

Hilda bristled. "You never know, kid. You never know."

Blair walked Hilda out. The woman stopped by the door as she put on her coat and turned to Blair. "How long have you known Casanova?"

Blair smirked. "A while. We've all known each other since kindergarten."

Hilda nodded. "You take care of him. From what I can see, he just needs someone."

Blair gulped as she closed the door behind Hilda. She pressed her palm against her forehead. This is not what she had been expecting when she came here. She just wanted to check on him. Now she had to play nurse. She let out a breath.

She walked to his bedroom and found him touching his face slightly.

"Does it still hurt?" She asked quietly.

"Like a bitch," he replied and sighed, rubbing the palms of his hands over his pant legs. "Thanks for the homework," he said absently.

She nodded and sat next to him. "The masquerade is in two days."

He turned and listened to her. She could tell this conversation was a welcomed distraction.

"I'm planning something for that night," she admitted, playing with the end of her skirt.

"An elaborate scavenger hunt for the pricey V?" He leered, and she smacked his shoulder.

He let out a chuckle. "Well, I'm sure you'll look ravishing. If I were your man I wouldn't need clues to find you."

"Or ravish me, I'm sure-" and the words died in her mouth because, suddenly, it was uncomfortable.

The thickness in the room was overwhelming, and he lay back on his bed. She watched him; his eyes closed. The swelling was already beginning to go down.

"I'm tired," he said and without thinking, she lay next to him, looking at his face. It was so strange that his gaze was not undressing her. He had been undressing her since they were in 6th grade.

"Chuck?" She asked quietly.

"Hum?" He was falling asleep.

"What do you say to coming to the Masquerade with me?" The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

His head twitched, and he looked her way.

"I'll need a friend to keep me company until Nate finds me." She explained to him but more because she needed an explanation for her own question and actions today. He was her friend and she would be doing the same for Serena.

He was quiet and then he nodded. "Sure, Waldorf. As long as I play the phantom."

She smiled and curled up against him.

"I was hoping you'd play the devil."

--

She wasn't sure how long she slept, but the sound of someone entering the room made her open her eyes. She found herself staring into Chuck's sleeping face. His arm was draped over her waist and their legs were intertwined together. She slowly extracted herself from the bed and left his bedroom without waking him. When she closed the door, she found herself staring at a confused Nate.

"Shh," she told him quickly.

Nate nodded and pulled her out of the apartment. Once the door was closed behind them, he turned to her and gave her a questioning look.

"He had his bandages taken off today, and his eyes are infected." She looked away. Nate sighed, running his hands over his face. "The nurse showed me how he needs to disinfect them once a day, and it hurts him whenever they do it. He was exhausted and fell asleep."

Nate finally looked at her. "You ok?"

She nodded and slid into his arms. She ignored this horrible feeling that kept popping back up in her stomach whenever she was near Nate. As if here was the last place he wanted to be, and somehow she was now returning that feeling.

"I'll take you home," he finally said, then turned to her. "Thank you."

She gave him an inquiring look.

"For looking out for my best friend."

She gulped and looked down. "He's my friend, too, you know."

He nodded and he took her home.

--

"I went to see Chuck this morning," Serena commented to her, and the mention of his name made her stomach flip. She still felt so very bad for him. He mostly sat in his suite and would get an occasional visitor. She had gone by the day before, and he had been drunk. She helped him with his rinse, but he had been in the worst mood. He cursed and whined until she almost smacked him. She stalked out of the suite once she was done and informed him that next time, he could do it on his own.

She did end up getting a call from him later. He did a Chuck version of an apology, which basically consisted of doing anything but apologizing, and _almost_ saying thank you. Apparently he was still her date for the Masquerade.

She had told this to Nate to see if there was any reaction, and there was none. He had said, "Good idea. That way he won't sit at home."

This bothered her. It's not like she was using Chuck to make him jealous, but he didn't even seem excited by all she was going through in order to make this a beautiful, magical night for them.

"How was he?" Blair asked Serena as they studied their masks.

"Chuck-like, but… I don't know. Kinda sad," Serena admitted.

"I would be, too, if I had lost my sight."

"Are you still taking him tonight?" Serena asked her.

"Yup. I need a companion until midnight. I can go ahead and describe what all the girls are wearing. Plus no one will recognize him, because he'll be wearing a mask." She shrugged. "It'll be perfect."

Serena nodded. "You're being nice to him."

Blair shrugged it off. "He was as nice as you can get Chuck to be when my dad left."

--

She looked stunning. Nate better want to ravish her. Nate was meeting her there. The limo was taking her to pick Chuck up, who had been dressing with Nate all afternoon.

She didn't know why, but her stomach was happy when they finally pulled up to the Palace. She was excited to see Chuck. It's not like he could even see her and comment on her stunning dress like he would normally do. Plus, she had dressed up for Nate, not for anyone else.

As she stepped out of the elevator and knocked on his door, she was even more nervous; she might've had too much champagne. That was probably the problem.

She heard him open the door and let out a laugh at his devil outfit.

"Perfect!" She stated.

"Really?" He asked, smirk in place. "I look devilish?"

"It's _trés_ Chuck." She nodded.

"How do you look?" He asked, and she felt a twinge of sadness in his voice.

"I…" She thought about it. "Here." She took his hands, and he stiffened, confused. She stood before him and placed his hands on her hair. A small smile formed on his face.

"Enjoy it while you can, Bass," she told him as she guided his hands. He playfully slapped her hands away.

"I know how to feel up a woman, Waldorf. Give me credit."

She let out an exasperated sigh, but she felt flushed.

His hands slowly touched her face, her necklace, then they landed next to her breasts and she sucked in a breath.

"I'll be a gentleman," he promised.

"So says the devil," she quipped and smiled at him as his hands reached her waist.

"As predicted. Ravishing," he murmured. Then he started trailing down her hips.

"Ok," she interrupted him. Not because she felt flushed and heated. Because they were late. "We're late."

She almost saw him raise his brows. He held out his arm and this made her smile. "C'mon, lover."

"Say it again," he smirked, and she swatted his arm.

--

When they arrived, people turned to look at her. She smiled graciously at them as she basically guided Chuck around. Some people recognized him, and others wondered why she wasn't with Nate.

"Want me to describe the girls?" She asked him once they were standing in the middle of the party. He was nearly stiff next to her.

"Sure," he shrugged.

"Serena is in yellow, and so is another girl. She looks like a total bitch from Chapin."

"A hot bitch from Chapin, most likely," he commented.

"Want me to introduce you?" She inquired.

"No," he decided, and she didn't know how to reply. He was not ready, this she could understand.

"Ok. Larry Phelps has his tongue down some redhead's throat," she giggled, and he smiled.

"Nice ass?" He inquired.

She tried not to look.

"C'mon, Waldorf. How's her ass?" He leered and stood closer to her.

She flushed. "I suppose she has a nice ass."

"Philippa White and not a _real_ fire-crotch." He nodded.

Blair scoffed.

"Last year. She was lonely. I was horny," he explained, and she didn't know why, but this bothered her. Of course, she knew Chuck. She knew he would never change, but in the past few days he had let her see something else, and it was strange trying to merge both Chucks together.

They stood around for a while longer as the music got louder and faster.

"Want to dance?" He finally asked, and she looked at him questioningly.

"Dance?" She was perplexed.

"Yeah. Remember what Lady Ophelia used to say. One should be able to dance with your eyes closed."

She smiled at the memory of their dance teacher. They had been in the same dance class since they were in 4th grade. Chuck had been her dance partner at times, and they danced relatively well together. He would, however, sometimes leave her on the dance floor when he found his newest conquest.

"Grab one of your lackeys," he instructed. "Have them play our waltz."

She studied him, trying to see his eyes, but they were closed. They would always be closed. She gulped and grabbed Katy. She gave her swift instructions and then watched her disappear.

She didn't know if she was more disturbed that she followed his command so easily or by the fact that she knew exactly what waltz he was talking about. They had been no more than 12 and they had won first place in some charity event for young socialites.

Nate had been sick that time, and she had been stuck dancing with Chuck. They had nailed it, and since then, she had also considered it their waltz. She took his hand and walked him to the dance floor. She didn't know if it was her imagination working or not, but people seem to clear off the floor to see her and her devil dance.

Chuck didn't waste time. The moment the music came on, he grabbed her waist and hand, pulling her against him. She gasped a bit and let him lead.

"People?" He asked.

"None. The floor is ours," she said, rather astonished.

Most people were confused as to why a waltz would play at such a party, but they all stopped to watch them dance. Blair remembered all of her steps. What she didn't remember was what it felt like to be in his arms.

Nate was a great dancer, but Chuck took control of the situation. He knew his moves and knew where to place his hands, and if he were still able to see, he would be seeing right into her soul. He wasn't watching her from behind his devil mask, but she felt herself redden as if he were.

"Keep up, Waldorf," he smirked as she tripped a little, and she in turned glared at him. Not that he would notice, but it made her feel better. It made her calm down a bit, because the way he was holding her waist was doing nothing for that fitful feeling in her stomach.

When the dance ended, Chuck gave her a little bow and offered her his arm. She quickly took it, trying to compose herself as she led them off the dance floor. She was hot and heated, and she didn't know if it was bad AC or what the hell was wrong with her. It must be the costume.

She looked around, exasperated. "Where's Nate?"

He flinched a little, but kept his hand dutifully on the small of her back.

"He may be lost," he offered.

"Impossible," she snapped.

He chuckled. "What's wrong, Waldorf? Losing heat?"

She sneered as he enjoyed her discomfort. She was gaining heat. She didn't know why, but she wasn't as excited to lose her virginity as she had originally been. The fact that Nate was anything but all over her might've explained it.

Suddenly a mane of blonde hair came rushing their way, and the blonde tripped over an unsuspecting Chuck.

"Serena!" Blair admonished as Chuck grasped onto her for support.

"What the hell is her problem?" He growled, embarrassed at being knocked over.

Blair watched Serena run away from them and then turned to Chuck. "You ok?"

Chuck avoided her and straightened out his suit.

That's when Blair saw it, hanging off his pocket. A shiny speckle.

She reached out and pulled it from him. "What is it?" He asked.

She slowly smiled. "Little Jenny Humphrey."

"Humphrey?" He asked, confused.

"The hot bitch from Chapin."

Chuck smirked, and for a moment they were plotting partners again. She found herself enjoying it too much – she didn't even notice that Nate didn't come on time. People began taking their masks off, and Chuck ducked his head as he kept his.

When Nate finally tapped her shoulder, she frowned at him.

"You're late," she told him.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Chuck stood by, shifting from foot to foot.

"So am I," she said, and they began walking to the limo. She helped Chuck in even though he slapped her hand away. She turned to her boyfriend, who looked down at her in confusion when she stopped him from entering the limo.

"No." She placed her hand over his chest. "You didn't find me by midnight. No happily ever after for you."

Nate sighed. "Blair, I'm sorry."

She took him in. He did look sorry but, then again, he always looked sorry. She was just tired of planning these elaborate things for them to be together, and then they always fell through because he just didn't try. He didn't fight for her. He never fought for her.

"All I wanted was for us to start over. And you didn't even try." Her voice was thick because it felt like something monumental was ending. It was slowly crumbling before her eyes. She was too sad to even look at him. She closed her eyes and entered the limo, closing the door behind her.

She slid in and almost forgot that Chuck was inside impatiently waiting for her.

"The Palace," he said to the driver.

She was quiet as she rode next to him; she desperately wished her life came with a remote control. She would rewind so many things and delete others that made absolutely no sense.

Chuck had taken off his mask and his eyes were slightly inflamed.

"Did you do your rinse today?"

His jaw clenched. He hated the rinses. She sighed because she knew he hadn't done them.

"I'll do them before bed." He turned his head away.

She studied his profile. The dance they shared was still burned into her skin, and Nate's indifference was consuming her.

"What happened that night?" She finally asked him. She had not dared ask because Nate just jumped around the subject. It was like this big pink elephant that no one was talking about.

He turned his head to her voice and looked pensive. "I… can't remember. I just remember us in the limo. He had a couple of drinks and then… I was… it's been so dark ever since."

She slid unconsciously closer to him and her gloved hand slid into his. He turned his head in surprise when she leaned up and kissed his cheek.

She pulled back, and he was completely shocked and surprised.

"You're coming onto me, Waldorf?" His voice was low and husky.

She couldn't help but smile. "Not tonight."

He smirked. "Then what the hell was that?"

"You looked like you needed a kiss." His hair was on its end, and she ran her hand over it. "And I felt like giving you one. If you weren't here tonight, I'm pretty sure I would've been depressed."

He slowly smiled. Those smiles she saw only once in a while. Without thinking much of it she lay her head on his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around her.

--

A knock woke her the next morning. She felt disoriented. What the hell?

She opened her eyes, and that's when she realized she was in Chuck's bed. She was dressed in one of his shirts, and he was lying with his head on her arm, snoring softly, still in his black shirt and red pants.

She remembered last night. She had taken him upstairs and insisted on staying until he did his rinse. That had started a fight. He admitted that he had rubbed his eyes, and they were burning already. She had admonished him and made him sit while she rinsed his eyes. The pain must have had been horrible, because he was exhausted and cranky afterwards. He had lain in bed, and she had curled up next to him, stroking his hair as he tried to fall asleep. That's when he had developed a fever.

She hadn't known know what to do—she had never nursed anyone before. So she called Hilda on her emergency number and the nurse agreed to go over first thing in the morning, but instructed Blair to keep cold towels pressed to his eyes and forehead. That had been her night. The night she was supposed to lose her virginity had been spent nursing a blind Chuck Bass until she passed out exhausted instead.

She felt horribly guilty. She was the one that made him do the rinse. She had made him sick. The clock next to the bed read 6:45 AM. She sighed and extracted her arm from Chuck, but checked first on his temperature. He mumbled softly. He was not as hot as he had been, but he was still relatively warm. She slid off the bed and went to open the door.

When she opened the door, Hilda looked down at her outfit. The large woman raised a brow and smirked.

"Pajama party?" She inquired, and Blair rolled her eyes.

"He's in his bed. He still has a fever," she said, running her hands over her messy and tangled hair. It was half up in that bun and half down. She didn't care anymore. It's not like anyone was going to see her.

Hilda nodded, going past her and still smirking at her clothes, or rather, lack of clothes.

Chuck woke when Hilda stuck a thermometer in his mouth. Blair walked away then, looking for her phone. She needed to call Serena and ask her to bring clothes up.

Hilda gave Chuck some pills and reminded him that the rinse needed to be done and that he was not to rub his eyes at all. She grilled Blair on how he had spent the night, and then left her some antibiotics in case it happened again.

"How's the boyfriend?" She asked Blair as she walked the woman to the door.

"He's home," Blair snapped.

Hilda chuckled and walked out as Serena got to 1812. Serena was going to grill her on the time it was but then took in her clothes and her mouth dropped. Blair rolled her eyes and grabbed the bag from her friend.

"It's not what you think," Blair told her as Serena followed her inside the suite.

"Chuck, Serena is here," she told him, and she heard him enter the bathroom.

Serena watched her as she changed into some jeans.

"You slept like that? In his bed?" Serena looked grossed out.

Blair sighed and slid out of his shirt. "He can't see me," she whispered.

"I can guess that the loss of sight has amped up his imagination."

"It sure has." Chuck reentered the room, walking calculatingly to his spot on the couch.

"Morning," Serena said, all too brightly.

Chuck ignored her, grabbed the phone next to the couch, and started ordering breakfast.

"I heard you were sick," Serena told him once he hung up.

"I heard I was blind," he snapped.

"We're leaving," Blair stated.

"I can hear you changing, Waldorf," he leered. Blair threw him his shirt. It landed on his chest, and he chuckled. Especially when he took the shirt and inhaled it. "Smells like you."

Blair groaned and grabbed Serena's arm. "Rinse at 3, I have to get home."

"Waldorf." He stood as she was walking out.

She turned and avoided his face; it's not like his eyes could see through her anymore. But he was still Chuck, and Chuck sensed things that other normal human beings didn't.

He leaned in and quietly said. "Thank you for last night."

Her breath caught at her throat. "We're even."

He nodded slowly and bit his lip. "I need another favor."

She looked up at him, confused. "With what?"

"Before the … you know…." He pointed to his eyes.

"Yeah."

"I had a business idea, but I need help… putting the portfolio together." He looked vulnerable. And unsure. She didn't know how to handle this Chuck.

"My blind therapist is coming by today to help me 'cope' and begin my training," he spit out. "But once she's gone, I need someone who can type out the proposal. I need to pitch it to Bart."

His jaw twitched at the mention of Bart.

She nodded. "Sure."

"4pm?" He asked.

"It's a date," she smirked.

"This is our second one; does this mean we're dating?" He leered.

She smiled and smacked his arm. "Shut up."

When she turned, she saw Serena looking at her very strangely. The door closed behind them and she ignored her best friend all the way to the lobby. She also ignored the smile plastered on her face.

--

She knocked on the door at exactly 3:49pm. Ten minutes ahead. Because this wasn't a date, it was a business meeting. She had showered and done her make up carefully. It's not like anyone could see her, but she was still Blair Waldorf. Blair Waldorf was perfection. Plus, putting Jenny Humphrey in her place made her feel 100 better.

The door was opened by Chuck in a fluid motion that he hadn't done since before he was blind. She smiled up at him, and then realized he had no clue who she was. She opened her mouth to tell him who she was but he smirked.

"You're early," he admonished.

"Where you waiting by the door?" She smirked as he let her in; she also violently ignored her stomach that seemed to want to dance on its own.

She turned to see a relatively beautiful woman in simple jeans and a polo shirt looking at her. She felt herself flush bright pink.

Oh my. Chuck was getting it on, and she had walked in.

"I didn't know you were busy," she said quickly, looking around uncomfortably. Why was she even here? Why did she even care that the woman's breasts look great in her polo? It's not like Chuck could admire her rack.

"Blair, this is Dr. Linda Thompson-Hines. She's my therapist." Blair's mouth formed a perfect O as the good doctor smiled at Blair. "Today we learned useful things like eating while blind and opening the door without killing oneself."

Dr. Thompson-Hines reached forward to greet Blair. Blair sniffed and shook her hand.

"Pleasure." Blair arched her brow. The woman gave her a half-smirk.

"Charles tells me you're helping him out. Childhood friends?" The tall blonde inquired.

"Yes." Blair said stiffly. She didn't trust this woman.

The woman looked between her and Chuck and cleared her throat. "We can start on mapping out the apartment tomorrow, Charles. I'll be by around 12."

Blair did a quick mental note. 12, got it.

Chuck showed the woman out, smarming his way to the door while Blair glared at him. The woman left her scent in the room, and Blair bristled.

Donna Karan was so 2007.

Chuck turned and smirked at her.

"She's gorgeous, right?" He asked, rubbing his hands together.

"You're blind. That shouldn't matter to you," she snapped and dropped her laptop case on his desk.

He chuckled and found his spot on the couch.

"I bet you she has great legs." he murmured.

She threw him a glare while she started her computer.

"I'm not Nate. I'm Blair," she reminded him.

Chuck bristled. "I can't do this with Nate, either. The guy's great, but really, he has no sense."

"How does Nate not have any sense?" She demanded, feeling a bit insulted. She was dating, after all, this senseless man.

Chuck scoffed. "You're still a virgin! I mean, talk about senseless."

Blair stared at the back of his head for a full minute before reminding herself what she was doing. She was helping him with his business plan, not hoping he would be pining for her.

"Lets hurry, I haven't got all night."

"I do." And the sad way he said it made her want to rearrange her schedule and make sure they took as long as he needed.

--

To be continued

A/N - I posted the next chapter because I wanted to get you guys more BC moments :) The next chapter wont be up for a few days, so this will have to hold you over until then waves


	3. Valiant Taste Death But Once

Valiant Taste Death but Once (Chapter 3 of See No Evil)

**Valiant Taste Death but Once** (Chapter 3 of _See No Evil_)

Author: Isabelle

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Gossip Girl characters; this is just for a fun & entertainment.

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Set after 'Bad New Blair', an accident leads Chuck to loose his sight. Him and Blair slowly grow closer as she helps him adjust to the loss of his sight. Chuck/Blair.

Special thanks to Tati, my awesome BETA

--

_"Cowards die many times before their deaths, The valiant never taste of death but once." _

_--From Julius Caesar (II, ii, 32-37) William Shakespeare_

She looked at herself in the mirror and caught herself smiling. What the hell was wrong with her? She quickly wiped the smile from her face. This was business. She straightened her red bow on her head and took a deep breath. Blair Waldorf was perfect. If she could just lose like five more pounds, everything in her life would be perfect.

Except for the distant boyfriend and the blind friend, life was relatively perfect.

She bounded downstairs and was taken aback when Dorota asked how Chuck was doing. Chuck was fine—he was getting some help with Doctor Long-Legs and was doing as well as could be expected. She was done worrying about Chuck. He was a big boy.

She caught herself smiling again in the hallway mirror. She wiped it off. What the hell?

Her phone vibrated, and she looked down. He was calling her.

The smile was back on her face. She didn't notice this time as she got into the elevator.

"I'm on my way," she told him as she picked up.

"Bring bagels," he said.

She rolled her eyes. "No, I'm late."

"Have compassion on a poor blind guy," he whined.

"How long are you going to play the pity card?" She asked, and that's when she saw herself in the reflection of the elevator with a huge smile on her face. She whipped it off.

"As long as it works," he said.

"Fine." And she hung up.

She had a dream last night. This was probably why she felt like this. In her dream, Chuck had regained his sight, and she no longer had to take care of him. She had walked down the stairs of Constance, and he was lounging at the bottom of them, smirking up at her. Like Rhett Butler when he first sees Scarlett. It had flushed her to the core. And then she had woken up. She decided to categorize the dream under 'nightmares.' The only reason it had put her in a good mood was because she would no longer need to take care of his ass.

When she got off the elevator, 1812 was opened and he stood there without her even knocking.

She raised an inquiring brow.

"I could sense you getting off the elevator," he explained as he tried to button his jacket, his Ray-Bans perched on his face.

She stepped forward and handed him his bagel, wrapped in a napkin.

He took it from her hands gratefully and, when their hands brushed together, she felt a sensation run up her spine. She hated having nightmares. She would now be jumpy the rest of the day.

"Let's go." And she dragged him down to his car. She grabbed his jacket and held onto his portfolio as he munched on his bagel. She ended up having to wipe cream cheese from his chin. He told her he could do it himself, that he had been doing things himself lately. The suite remained _relatively_ clean, and she had only had to force him to do his rinse twice. He had been doing it on his own. His eyes were now looking moderately normal except for the fact that they were always closed. He now had a staff of five people.

A school tutor, a personal shopper, a personal assistant, a full time chauffer, and the good doctor. All of them were hot women, except for Robert, the chauffer. She was sure he was having sex with all of them because he did look to be in a great mood.

"I found information on the seeing-eye dogs," she ventured as she sat next to him on their way to Victrola. He shifted at the mention of them. They were as bad as the blind-stick, as he had called it.

If he could have glared at her, he would have. "Blair," he said in a warning tone.

"Fine," she snapped. Of course, she didn't tell him she had already contacted a woman at the Blind Center, and that she was going to tour the place after school. He didn't need to know that.

"What did you do?" His voice brought her back to reality. You would think that now that he was blind, he wouldn't be able to see right through her. Damn him.

"I just wanted to check out the services," she explained and began texting good morning to her boyfriend.

She heard him sigh; he was clearly annoyed. It's not like he was allergic to animals or anything like that. If memory served, the Bass family had never had an animal. Nate had had a golden retriever, which she had named Prince, but it died a few years back. Serena's mom had owned a pair of little tiny Chihuahuas; they were gone now. But the Bass family never had animals. Oh, wait.

She grimaced.

Chuck had owned a pet monkey, but when his mom died, they took it away.

She looked up at him, and the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

"No one is going to take the dog away," she said.

His heard turned sharply to her direction, and she felt him stiffen next to her.

"What are you on about?" He asked.

"Nothing." And they were quiet for the rest of the ride. She would definitely not miss her appointment at the blind center.

His mood changed when they arrived at Victrola. Some of the girls recognized him and greeted him all too enthusiastically. She didn't let it bother her—this was Chuck Bass. His sperm had traveled the world and back – touching countless on its way.

"What happens at Victrola stays at Victrola," he slithered into her ear, with a smirk in place, once they were done touring the facility.

She turned to look at him, slightly apprehensive. He liked making her uncomfortable all too much. Not that she was uncomfortable.

"Oh… it does have franchise potential," she agreed, and there was a pleased look on his mouth. "Chuck Bass, I do believe all your years of underage boozing and womanizing have finally paid off." She let out a laugh and smiled up at him. "Truly I am proud."

"And you are my toughest critic."

It was at that moment, while standing right before him, that she missed his sight the most. Because the smile was lost on him and, once this place was up and running, he would never see the final product of all of his hard work.

He talked a bit about his father, who happened to be in town. She had to run to school, though, so she handed him over to Giselle, his personal assistant. As she was walking away, she turned to look back at him.

"Don't be nervous, he's going to love it!" She called back, and he stood there for a minute, looking her direction with a strange smile on his face. The smile did something to her stomach. She should've eaten breakfast.

After school, and after a box of mediocre chocolates that Nate had given her as an apology, she made it to the Center for the Blind.

She was filling out information when Cindy, the case manager, interrupted her. "So how does your boyfriend feel about the idea of the dog?"

She blanched. "He's not my boyfriend."

The woman looked confused.

"He's a friend. He's my boyfriend's best friend."

The woman nodded. Lately she had to explain to entirely too many people that Chuck and she were platonic.

The woman gave her a tour of the facility, and they finally made it to the training area for the dogs. She looked into the room as a woman trained a few dogs. One dog particularly caught her attention. She was a weimaraner with a silky coat. She didn't know why but she reminded Blair of Chuck.

Cindy saw her studying the dog.

"I don't think she'll ever make it," Cindy confessed, and Blair was taken aback. The dog looked flawlessly elegant.

"Why?" She inquired.

"She hates to follow rules." Cindy stated, and this made Blair smile. "She's fiercely loyal, though."

And Blair didn't hear another word she said. She stared at the dog, and the dog studied her right back.

--

The next day as she sat looking at herself in the mirror, all her smiles were gone. She hated her dress, she hated her life, she hated everything.

The sadness was all consuming, and she felt like she couldn't breathe. She heard her mother and the Archibalds downstairs, but Jenny's words kept repeating over and over in her head.

As she descended the stairs, Nate came over to her. She was filled with an overwhelming desire to slap him. He denied anything was wrong and, the longer the dinner went, the more she felt she was choking and possibly lacking air.

When her mother and the Captain insisted that she try on the Vanderbilt ring she felt it heavy on her finger but she forced the smile on her face.

When she saw the Captain get arrested, she didn't know why, but she grabbed her purse. She needed to get out and see the one person she had felt comfortable with these past few weeks. She needed to escape, and Chuck wouldn't be able to see her distraught face.

"What happened the night of Chuck's accident?" She demanded, angry at him and his stupid emotions that went every which direction except towards her.

Nate swallowed and looked away. "I don't remember."

And he was lying.

"Do you love me?" She asked him.

He didn't look at her. Here he was, with perfectly healthy eyes, and he wouldn't look at her, wouldn't see her. She didn't know why but, at that moment, she wished he was the one who was blind and not Chuck.

She buried her face in her hands because she couldn't even look at him.

"You should deal with your father." She took a breath. "He and Chuck need you. And you know what? I don't."

The moment she closed the door behind her she let out a breath. The overwhelming feeling of suffocation that had been taking over her this week had lifted.

The limo ride felt like an eternity by the time she arrived at Victrola. The door was opened, and she marched to Chuck's chair. His assistant was nearby and a showgirl was giving him a lap dance. The moment she looked at him, he sensed her and tapped the girl's ass to move away.

She sunk next to him.

"You alone?" He asked.

"Yup."

"Where's Nate?"

"I think we just broke up."

"What?" He sounded confused.

"I don't want to talk about it. I just want to escape. That's what this place is for, right?"

He sat patiently next to her for a moment and asked Giselle to bring them champagne.

She sipped on her champagne as she watched the dancers perform their routine. The music was getting to her and she tapped her foot. He was quiet next to her and his presence was becoming overwhelming.

"I know you don't want to talk about it…" he started.

"Relief," she blurted out. She didn't know what it was about Chuck, but lately she just blurted things out to him for no reason and with no sense. "I feel relief."

She felt him shift next to her.

"You know I've got moves," she suddenly said, feeling slightly tipsy and inspired as if an avalanche was slowly building in her stomach.

He leaned forward, and she could smell his cologne. "Really?" Did his voice have to be so absolutely thick?

"Then why don't you get up there?" He was smirking.

Before she knew it, she pressed her drink into his hand and, this time, she relished the way his skin felt against hers. She smiled at him and walked to the stage.

She knew he couldn't see her, and she could feign that she had actually done it, but she knew better than to try to outsmart a Bass. So she did it, and maybe it was the way he was smiling at her direction as the crowd jeered her on, or the way his assistant was whispering in his ear, describing the scene to him, but it was not long before she realized that she was dancing. She was dancing just for him.

When the song ended and she was in nothing but her negligee, she walked to him and grabbed his hand.

"How about _that_, Bass?" She pulled him up. Their bodies were entirely too close.

"C'mon. I'll give you a ride home." And his voice was deep and silky, so she smiled and nodded.

He dismissed Giselle, who seemed to be entirely too taken by one of the waitresses. She didn't know why, but this pleased her. Leave it to Chuck to surround himself with lesbians.

The limo ride was relatively quiet.

"Thanks for the lift home," she said quietly, looking at him. She still couldn't believe herself. She felt like she was having an out-of-body experience.

Hours ago, she had had a Vanderbilt ring on her finger and had been so horribly unhappy that she had almost fainted. Now, she was in her negligee, tipsy, with her blind friend, and she felt so very happy that she couldn't describe it.

He turned his head to her, his face still amazed. He took off his sunglasses. "I bet you were amazing up there," he whispered. "I wish I could've seen it. If only just once."

And the way that he said it with such wistfulness that she couldn't help herself but feel amazing at his words. Chuck Bass wished he could've seen her dance. He didn't wish to be able to see a female orgy one last time. No. He didn't wish to have one last night tearing the town apart with Nate. No. He wished he could see her. Her heart melted, and she reached out for his hand. He grasped it in his, and she didn't know why, but now the soft rumbling in her stomach didn't feel so unwelcomed.

So she slid down the leather and pressed her forehead against his. He let out a breath, and she smelled mint and cigarettes in his mouth. He wasn't smirking, he wasn't laughing, but he had a look of genuine lust and something else she couldn't describe.

So she kissed him.

And she wondered why she hadn't done it 100 times before because his lips woke something in her that she had never felt before.

He pulled back and held on even tighter to her hand.

"Are you sure?" He whispered.

And that's when she knew it. She was going to lose her virginity to Chuck Bass. In the back of his limo. And he wouldn't even be able to see her.

But who kissed with eyes opened?

And… boy, was it was amazing. His hands knew exactly what to touch, what to do, what to feel. She felt herself crashing and burning and being found once more.

When his pants were off and he was about to enter her, she felt a slight panic, but he cupped her face and pressed their foreheads together. "Shhh…"

And he was comforting her the same way she had been comforting him those past few weeks. So she nodded and he relented, entering her ever so gently, kissing her cheek when she whimpered with discomfort as her body adjusted to him. Slowly, ever so smoothly, he was inside of her.

They were breathing harshly, whispering each other's names over and over.

When she came, she felt her body collapse but her spirit soar. And the huge smile was back on her face. The one that wouldn't go away because she realized as his chest hairs tickled her breasts that she wanted Chuck Bass and no one else.

--

Maybe it was in the way he held her. The way he continued to hold her through the night. He made her feel warm and secure and… loved. She was so desperately thirsty for love that she relished this intimacy they seemed to share.

After a few rounds in the limo and a couple of jokes about how he wished he could see her (though she did sense the sadness in his voice), they made it to his room. It wasn't long before they climbed into bed and started the proceedings once more. This time, he took his time. He had her lay on her back as he trailed kisses up her legs and began suckling on her sex. No one had ever done this for her, to her, and it was amazing. Amazing.

She did return the favor and she realized it wasn't as bad as she thought. She had jerked Nate off in the past, but she had never gone down on him. She had always thought it was dirty and unladylike, but the way Chuck's voice encouraged her and guided her felt natural and supremely sexy. She had been guiding him for so many weeks now, it was nice to be shown something in exchange. He seemed to also enjoy it. Sex was something he could literally do with his eyes closed.

And he told her this. She huffed a bit, but he pulled her back into bed and just held her until she calmed down and realized that he hadn't really been this close to anyone.

They did fall asleep in each other's arms, and when she woke to use the restroom, she saw his medicine lined up on the sink. The rinse bottle was nearly full, and she suspected he hadn't exactly been following his routine to a T.

When she sunk back into bed and asked him about it, he said that he hadn't done it in the past few days because the swelling had gone down. She was exhausted and would've gone to sleep and worried about it in the morning, but she extracted herself from him and grabbed his medicine. She made him sit up, amidst protests and jives that she just liked to see him suffer. But this time, as she did the routine, there was something intimate about it.

And not because they were both butt naked.

This time it was ok for her to stroke his hair when the liquid stung him and it was ok to pepper him with kisses. It was ok for him to admit that it hurt, but not as much as when they had first started. It was ok for him to grasp her legs. When they were done and she had wiped his face, she leaned down and kissed his closed eyes. He sat still, letting her.

That's when she whispered what changed everything.

"I don't care that you're blind."

He buried his head in her chest and pulled her closer to him. They stayed there for a few minutes, and her heart felt this sudden fluttering sensation that she couldn't control.

She didn't know if she was ready to admit what she was feeling for her longtime friend but this was as close to saying it as either of them ever could be.

They slept tangled in each other for the rest of the night, and when she woke, she knew he was awake. It made her sad once more that he couldn't see her. She had a feeling this was bothering him also.

"Good morning," he whispered when she woke.

She smiled and touched his face. "How did you know I was awake?"

"I could sense it," he admitted and kissed her hand. "I notice more things now."

"Like?" She asked, playing with each one of his fingers.

"Like, I know it's you that enters a room, because I can smell you and the way you walk is different. I know it's your steps."

She grinned, burrowing closer to him.

"Like I know you've wanted me for a while," he murmured into her ear. The sound of his vibrating voice sent shivers up her spine.

She gasped.

He chuckled and pulled her closer.

"Like a part of you likes playing nurse to me."

"Don't confuse my sexual fantasies with yours." She bit his lip teasingly.

"Oh, I'm not." He grinned. His hair tickled her face, and she kissed his forehead.

"I just want you to be well," she said in her defense.

"Oh, trust me. I'm well."

She laughed against his throat.

"Breakfast?" He asked, playing with her hair. She nodded against him, and he reached out and grabbed the phone.

She wrapped her arms around his back as he spoke the order into the phone, resting her cheek to his shoulder. She neither seemed to be able to remove the smile permanently etched on her face nor did she want to.

She was happy. Genuinely happy, and she didn't think she had ever felt this amazing. This sexy, this beautiful… this wanted in all of her life.

When he hung up the phone, he pulled her around him, and she straddled his hips. They began kissing once more, and she melted into his touch as he renewed the skills of his fingers. Oh, she could so do him before breakfast arrived.

But what arrived instead was Hilda. Knocking furiously at the door while Chuck groaned. He squeezed her thigh lightly and smacked her ass as she got off him to answer the door.

This time Blair opened the door in his robe, and Hilda gave her a knowing look.

"Good morning, Miss Blair," she said, looking her over.

That damn smile didn't leave her face. She was going to have to get some plastic surgery now, before she became the new UES joker. Chuck walked out of the bathroom in his silk sleep pants and lounged against the door frame. He looked so damn sexy with his bed hair that Blair had to control herself. Otherwise, she would jump him, and Hilda would probably enjoy the show.

Hilda looked back and forth between the two and smirked. She set her things down on the coffee table.

"Come on over, lover boy," she told him, and Blair's hands brushed against his as he passed by. Her stomach made a happy lurch, and she decided to accept it this time. She went to his closet and slipped into one of his shirts and a pair of silk boxers. She wandered back to the couch and Hilda was looking in on Chuck's eyes with a small flashlight, smiling in a satisfied manner.

"Nice job," Hilda commented. She handed Chuck some drops after she had applied them to his eyes and told him he was off the rinse. This made him genuinely smile, and Blair came over to sit next to him. She was glad that was over with.

"Use the drops if they feel extremely dry," she told him and began packing her stuff. Blair slid her hand into Chuck's, and he kissed the back of it. Hilda smirked again and started to walk out before she turned and looked at them.

"I'm guessing you two are now together?" She asked, raising a brow. Blair was going to answer, but Chuck answered by placing an arm around her and pulling her in against him. Hilda chuckled, as if she had seen that coming. "You know, kid," she said to Chuck. "Look up Dr. Ignus Vandershalt. He works out of Germany. You might find out something interesting."

She left and not long after, breakfast arrived. He asked her to look up the doctor Hilda had suggested and, while he ate his bacon, Blair sat between his legs on the floor and started Googling Dr. Ignus Vandershalt.

"What does it say?" He asked, sipping his orange juice as he handed her a piece of whole wheat toast with jelly. She took it and continued her smiling because this felt so very awesome. Just having breakfast dressed in his clothes and barefoot. She couldn't think back on any time she and Nate had done this. The banter and then the small kisses to signify they cared about each other.

"He's an eyesight specialist that is considered a miracle worker by some," she read aloud with a touch of cynicism. He leaned forward, interested.

"Go on."

She sighed and read the bio of the doctor. Apparently the man was not allowed to practice in the United States because of his unconventional methods.

She frowned at this.

"You're not considering this, are you?" She asked, looking at him as she dressed in some clothes he had his stylist bring up for her. He was sitting on the couch looking extremely pensive, drumming his fingers on his knee.

He didn't hear her and she sighed, taking in her appearance at the mirror. The smile had finally managed to vanish.

She was worried. She was being selfish, this she knew. A part of her was afraid that if Chuck did regain his sight, then it would be back to how things were before the accident. He would have no reason to stay with her. He didn't need a nurse or a companion. Didn't need a guide. He would be wild and independent again and want to bed as many experienced girls as he could.

She bit her lip and glanced at him once more. He was in the same position. His jaw clenching and unclenching.

She decided to change the subject and fast.

"I'm heading to the jewelers to put some pieces on hold," she said as she walked to him and sat on his lap. She startled him but he quickly recovered when she wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his neck. He kissed her shoulder and returned her embrace.

"You're quiet," she commented.

She felt him smile into her shoulder. "I'm still recovering from last night." He bit her shoulder, lovingly.

"That much is clear."

He smirked. "Not as clear as the memory of you purring in my ear which I have been replaying over and over."

Her smile was back along with these flutters that seemed to have invaded her stomach. God, he smelled amazing.

That's when she saw the discarded newspaper by the door with a familiar face on it that made her sit up.

"What?" He asked, confused.

She got off his lap, grabbed the paper, scanning the page.

"Blair?"

"The Captain has been charged with embezzlement," she said, looking up at him. He stood up and walked to her, hands on his hips. She read him the article on Nate's dad and then they stood there, contemplating it.

"I should call him," he said quietly.

She nodded and set the paper down.

She wasn't sure if she wanted to talk to Nate at this moment, but Chuck was his best friend. He definitely had to make a call. She gulped and went to him, wrapping her arms around him.

"I should go," she said and looked up at him. She smiled a bit when he leaned down, touched her face and gave her a small kiss.

"I hope you don't expect me to get you anything," he smirked as she walked away.

She smiled as she looked back at him, standing with his hands on his hips, his chiseled face making a hollow pathway out of his cheekbones.

She threw him a kiss and nearly skipped to the elevator. God, she was in a good mood. Life was wonderful, life was perfect. She had decided on a new fairytale for her life. Snow White was overrated anyways. From now on it was going to be all about Rapunzel. Rapunzel's prince had gone blind, and her tears had cured him. She didn't think Chuck would appreciate her crying into his eyes, but she still found it romantic.

She was so busy in cloud Chuck Bass that she literally ran into Nate. As she came out of the elevator she tripped right over him and she would've landed on her face had he not reached out and grabbed her, pulling her flush against him.

She blinked up and looked at him and let out a laugh.

"Are you ok?" He looked both confused and concerned.

She braced herself against his arms and nodded. "Nathaniel Archibald, thank you for rescuing me."

She extracted herself from him and continued walking, her hair bouncing behind her. She heard him call after her. She stopped and turned to look at him, confused.

"Hey," he said as he jogged up to her.

She smiled, still unsure what exactly he wanted. She knew it was weird to talk to an ex, but really, she felt so emotionally detached from him that she was almost happy to see him. And he was going through all these horrible things with his family – maybe she shouldn't smile and act like the perfectly concerned debutante. But that damn smile just wouldn't leave her face.

"Hey! Good morning," she said, tucking her hair behind her ear.

He was looking at her strangely.

"Oh, I'm sorry about your dad!" She said quickly and looked around.

He nodded, still staring at her.

"You're going to see Chuck?" she asked, not certain about his scrutinizing gaze.

"Yeah." He shook himself out of his self-imposed reverie and smiled. He ran his hand over his hair, and she smiled at him.

"Look, let's be friends, ok?" She urged, coming closer. "I want us to be friends and to be ok."

He tilted his head and studied her.

"Yeah…" The words died in his mouth, and he smiled once more at her. "You just look… so pretty."

She smirked, flushing at his compliment. Nate was one to give stoics 'you look beautiful, as always'. But the way he said it reminded her of her old Nate who used to adore the ground she walked on. Of course, they were six and he had nothing else to adore. It was either her or transformers.

"Which side of whose bed did you wake up on, Archibald?" She smiled, pushing him slightly. His eyes still looked glazed.

He let out a laugh and continued to smile down at her.

"I mean…" He studied her. "You look so happy."

She took a deep breath. "I am," she admitted. "I'll see you around, ok?" She said, squeezing his arm and turning to go. He was after her once more.

"Hey." He stood in front of her, still looking dazed and confused. "Where are you doing?"

She laughed, looking around and spotting Chuck's limo. The driver nodded to her, waiting for her to come. "Day before my birthday, Archibald."

"Right. Jewelry store." He nodded as she walked away.

"I'll see you, are you going to be able to stop by for my birthday?" She asked, looking behind her.

"I'm still invited?" He asked, confused.

"Sure!" She nodded. "I said I still wanted to be friends."

She hopped into the limo and shrieked when he slid next to her. "Nate!"

"Miss Waldorf?" The driver inquired, looking in concerned and glaring at Nate.

"I'm fine, Robert. Give us a moment." She assured him and glanced at Nate. Robert nodded, then closed the door. She turned to Nate. "What are you doing?"

"Blair, what has gotten into you?" He looked at her in wonder.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Out, Archibald. Go see Chuck."

Nate leaned closer. "Blair."

"Stop!" She demanded, crossing her arms and glaring him down. She was upset. Actually, she was furious. Leave it to him to find her beautiful, alluring, and intriguing the moment she left him and started something with Chuck. She looked out the window and ignored the way he was looking at her.

He stared at her for some time before he sighed.

"Ok. I'll go see Chuck, but I want to talk to you. Maybe tonight?" He asked, hopefully.

She took a deep breath and glanced at him. "What about? It's my party, and I'll be entertaining. Remember? I always have something going on. Something always has my attention."

"Yeah…" He looked down and then turned to leave.

She jumped when the door slammed behind him and the first thing she did was pull out her phone and dial Chuck's number. He picked up and she could almost see the smirk on his face. "Miss me already?" Damn, she shouldn't have set his ringtones.

"You wish, Bass," she teased, but the sound of his voice brought back the happy fluttering to her stomach and she sighed. "Archibald is on his way up."

"Thanks for the warning." He drawled. "On your way to the jeweler's?"

"Yeah. Thanks for the limo."

She heard the knock on his door and sighed.

"I'll talk to you later," she said and hung up.

--

After she had placed a few jewelry pieces on hold, she went home and listened to her mother go on and on about the Captain and how horrible this entire situation was. Then she listened to Serena complain about something else to do with Dan and some person named Vanessa. She decided to hate Vanessa right away.

It took her the better part of the day to figure out what she wanted to wear. Her hair was up, and she was antsy. She wanted to get to the party.

She called Chuck but he didn't pick up, which she thought was strange. He was probably in the shower, so she shrugged her shoulders and left with Serena once her best friend came to pick her up.

"Nate and I broke up," she blurted in the taxi as they made their way to the party.

Serena gasped, but studied her profile. She was sitting looking as fresh as lettuce with the damn smile on her face.

"Are you serious?" Serena blinked.

"As a heart attack." Blair nodded then added. "I'm happy."

Serena was gaping at her, and she did a little dance of happiness. She didn't even recognize herself. She didn't even feel like causing mayhem. Maybe the reason she had always been so bent on causing trouble was because she was so desperately unhappy with Nate.

It didn't matter: she was happy now. She cared about someone, and that someone cared about her – it was magical.

Serena, of course, continued to look at her confused as hell. "Blair, what's going on?"

Blair decided she might as well tell her. She was so very furiously happy that she felt she would burst happy light from her stomach and provide electrical power to all of New York if she kept it all inside of her. Like a care bear. Blair-bear. She amused herself.

"I kissed Chuck. I mean, he kissed me, too – we kissed," she said quickly.

Serena blanched and gaped at her.

"What?" As if she had misunderstood her.

"We kissed."

"You and Chuck?"

Blair nodded.

"Chuck is blind, B," Serena said, as if this justified everything, and Blair glared at her.

"I don't care." She took a deep breath and looked away. "I told him it didn't matter."

Serena was studying her so intently that she caved in.

"I also slept with him. We slept with each other." Blair finally looked at her. "I lost my virginity last night."

"Oh my god." Serena's eyes were wide. "Oh my god."

"Stop saying it like it's a bad thing, S!" Blair snapped. She was popping her happy bubble.

"You slept with Chuck Bass, womanizer extraordinaire?"

"He's changed!" Blair yelled.

"I mean – this is wrong of me. I'm sorry, Blair. Of course it doesn't matter that he's blind… it's just that…" Serena composed herself and took a deep breath. "So you guys are together?"

Blair attempted to hide that damn smile. "I think. I mean, we spent the night and morning together."

The red blush that she usually held under control burst through and flushed her neck and ears.

"Oh, B," Serena sighed. "Do you… _like_ him?"

Blair grimaced. She knew she was happy with Chuck. That Chuck made her happy. That Chuck made her feel sexy, needed and wanted, but she hadn't actually attempted to classify, sort and alphabetize her feelings for him or for them.

"Define like."

Serena gasped, eyes wide.

"Oh my god!"

"Oh my god!" Blair exclaimed right after her, hands on mouth.

She _liked_ Chuck Bass. OMG.

"You like him!" Serena pointed at her.

"I do!" Blair grimaced. "I… oh, no… S, what am I supposed to do?"

Serena held her hands tightly. "It's ok. Let's think about think. How _much_ do you like him? Like a little, he has a great voice, or like a lot, I may possibly get butterflies?"

Blair thought for a moment, thinking back to before he got hurt: how much she enjoyed their little jives, and when Serena was away, how he had been almost sweet and how he had watched her. And now he was showing her his vulnerable side, which she was sure no one else saw. The intimate moments they spent as she helped him and he fought her, the way he kissed her and the way he worshiped her body and the way they ate breakfast together and how she could completely forget about Nate, her mom, their world when his voice was melting her insides.

Oh

Shit

"We're in butterfly territory," she admitted to Serena and herself.

"Oh, shit," Serena said, looking ahead, trying to wrap her head around this.

"S, don't judge me," Blair pleaded, looking at her with wide eyes.

Serena reached for her hand and held it tight in hers.

"I don't understand it," she admitted, but looked at Blair. "But you must see something I don't."

"Like he knows I prefer jelly on my toast and not butter? Nate always spread butter. Like when I'm with him, no one else is in the room. I have all of his attention. I don't compete for anything."

Serena stared at her.

"Is that how Dan makes you feel? Like you're the most special person to him?"

Serena slowly smiled and nodded.

"I…" Blair looked down. "I've never felt that before."

Serena bit her lip.

"And it makes me want to smile _all_ of the time." The smile was back because she had given up trying to control the damn thing.

Serena threw her arms around her and hugged her. Both sat there like two sappy idiots. God, this boy business sucked.

Before they knew it they had arrived and were startled to find Nate waiting for them. Serena greeted him uncomfortably, but glanced at Blair. Blair was nonchalant and even kissed him on his cheek, smiling at him.

He handed her flowers, and she furrowed her brow.

"Is Chuck here yet?" She asked, ignoring the flowers.

"He's not coming," Nate said, looking at her with a confused expression.

"What?" Blair snapped at him, and he backed up. Serena looked between the two, also confused.

"He said so – when I went to see him. We talked for a bit, and then he looked tired, so he said he wasn't coming."

Blair's mouth hung opened. "Was he… like, in pain?"

Nate shook his head. "Nah, he just looked… down. I mean, I tried to cheer him up, but –"

"What did you talk about?" She demanded.

Nate turned beet red and looked at Serena.

"What did you tell him?" Blair came closer.

"I… I was talking about how I shouldn't have let you go."

The floor fell out from underneath Blair's feet. She swallowed and turned around, hand raised as she attempted to hail a cab.

She was going to fix this, and she was not going to let Nathaniel Archibald and his heart on his sleeve break them apart.

--

To be continued


	4. Die Without You

**Die Without You** (Chapter 4 of _See No Evil_)

Author: Isabelle

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Gossip Girl characters; this is just for a fun & entertainment.

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Set after 'Bad New Blair', an accident leads Chuck to lose his sight. He and Blair slowly grow closer as she helps him adjust to the loss of his sight. Chuck/Blair.

Special thanks to Tati, my awesome BETA

--

"_A shadow covers my entire body, As a cloud sheds away my wings  
__I have been a fool to think that you would return to me." – Chant to the Loved_

The moment she slammed the cab door, she felt like a soundtrack was playing in the background, telling the audience that a great climatic scene was about to take place. Violins that cried out with pain and sorrow as the tumultuous drums beat to the rhythm of a heart. A movie. A fucking movie.

The heroine full of passion and hope running to her lover who may or may not be broken. But the lovers were always broken; what else made a good story? Someone had to be fixed, someone had to be repaired, something had to be epic. And apparently her and Chuck were no different.

She contained her tears until the moment she realized Serena had her phone, so she couldn't call him. She would have to make a dramatic entrance, running through lobbies, skirts flying behind her, hair falling out of place, and the score swelling (drum, drum), to get to her lover and make her desperate plea.

Because he would be broken. He would be utterly broken, and the sad thing was that she wouldn't even be able to see it in his hollow eyes.

The moment she stepped off the cab, she did indeed run through the lobby, into an elevator, and up to his suite. She pulled out her key, the one he had just given her, and with shaky hands entered. It was dark, damp, and unwelcoming.

Drum. Drum.

"Chuck?" Her voice was hoarse, and she was crying.

He stepped out of the shadows, dressed in black and completely immaculate.

If she didn't know he was blind, she would've thought he was staring her down. His jaw was set, his body rigid. He was bracing himself to take the bullet.

Bite down on this, it'll hurt less.

Drum. Drum.

"No need to feel you tonight, I know you must look stunning." His voice betrayed not a thing, and she stepped forward, wiping the silent tears that continued to fall.

"I want you..." and she came closer. "To touch my face."

His body shifted.

"I don't want to touch you."

His words stung her.

She knew he was hurt. Her lover was broken. Utterly broken.

She reached and grasped his hand, but he grabbed her shoulders and pressed her roughly against the wall, knocking the breath from her body.

His face was inches from hers, and she could smell whiskey on his breath. He was breathing against her, hands still pinning her to the wall.

Drum. Drum.

She did the only thing she could think of. She leaned forward until the tears on her cheeks wet his face. He pulled back, slightly confused.

She let out a sob.

His hand went from her shoulder to her face as he felt her eyes and her wet cheeks.

"You're crying," he whispered.

She reached out to touch her own tears; once her fingers were wet, she softly pressed them to his lashes. He blinked and opened his eyes. She stared at them, willing her tears to bring them back to life.

"Two of her tears wetted his eyes and they grew clear again, and he could see with them as before," she whispered.

He nearly groaned and pressed her even further into the wall, his body pinning her down, making her realize just how much stronger than her he was.

"What is this, Blair?" He demanded, his face so close to hers that she wondered where his began and where hers ended.

"Rapunzel," she whispered, still crying.

Drum. Drum.

"This is not some fucking fairy tale!" He yelled at her. "I. Can't. See. Ever. Ever again."

"I know!" She shouted, grasping his face.

And then he was kissing her. Hard and punishing and twisted – what a twisted fairy tale. The soundtrack in her head became more violent, demanding, the climax was at its peak. Something was winning, and it was certainly not happily ever after.

She returned his anger in her kisses, grasping at him, their hands touching each other, leaving bruises, creating scars. And she wrapped her legs around him as he picked her up by her ass and began dry pounding through their clothes.

His mouth found her neck and she gasped as he bit and licked, expressing his frustration through his tongue. She would wear turtle necks for weeks.

"Bed," he said, his fingers digging into her hips.

She slid off him and pulled him to the bed. When he felt the bed, he threw her down and stood over her. He grabbed her feet and slipped her shoes off quickly, pressing his teeth to the arch of her foot. He bit down on it, and she arched back, her hands begging him to be on top of her.

"I need you," she said desperately.

He let go of her foot and crawled on top of her, pressing his nose to the valley between her breasts. "Not as much as I need you."

And his hands felt their way under her skirt, finding the edge of her stockings. He dipped his head and licked right under her bellybutton, making her arch up to meet his mouth.

"Chuck, please, please," she was mumbling now.

He pulled her stockings down along with her thin La Perla panties and, without preamble, stuck his fingers inside of her. She hissed in appreciation.

"Did he touch you?" He demanded, and she shook her head from side to side because she had lost words.

Drum. Drum.

"No," she finally said.

He let out a dark chuckle.

"Did you want him to touch you?" He asked, curling his fingers and massaging her clit.

She sat up, grabbed his face and kissed him like her life would end at that very minute.

He pulled his hand out of her and pulled her against him, deepening their kisses and unbuckling his pants.

She helped him, haphazardly, unleashing him from his pants and grabbing him, messaging him one, two, three times before he pushed her back down on the bed, then flipped her over.

Before she could protest, he was on top of her and thrusting in from behind, making her eyes cross in delirium.

It would've been humiliating if she wasn't so very turned on and needy, and if he was not draped over her, kissing her shoulder as he thrust in and out.

She was wriggling on the bed, grasping the pillow, grasping at anything as he pounded harshly into her. And then he was coming, biting down on her neck as he let out a yell. The feel of him spurting into her sent shivers down her spine, and she came harder than she ever had before. His fingers found her clit and messaged it and, before she was down from her first orgasm, another one took over her body. She yelled into the pillow, forgetting who she was, what she was doing, and who was on top of her.

His body was limp on top of her as she slowly came to reality. In the back of her mind she realized they hadn't used a condom and that left a calm chill in the pit of her stomach.

She rolled herself off from under him until he lay next to her, eyes closed and breathing hard.

She stared at him as the little stars in her eyes slowly dissipated

"Did I hurt you?" He asked, quiet and sad.

She reached out to touch his face, and he pulled away from her.

"You didn't," she whispered, and he finally reached out, blindly, to touch her face.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," he said.

"You didn't," she repeated, turning her face into his hand. His fingers smelled like her juices.

He was quiet as he ran his fingers over her face, touching all of her, her nose, her lashes, and her eyebrows.

"You're going to be the death of me," he finally said, and she pulled herself up, laying her head on his shoulder, looking up at him.

"It's a good way to go," she smirked, kissing his lips.

He pulled her against him, and she held on to him because she realized she could've lost him tonight. And that frightened her to the very core.

"He wants you back," he said, jaw set.

"I know," she said, kissing the set jaw.

"He's your Prince Charming," he said. "I have lived all of my life watching you and Nate. I have seen you plan out your wedding, name your unborn children, and fall helplessly in love with a man who would never love you the way you desperately wanted him to."

She took a deep breath and voiced what she had been slowly discovering. "I think it's time I grow up. The time for fairytales is over."

"What are you saying?" He asked quietly.

She slid up, until her body was draped over him. She wished they had taken the time to remove their clothes.

She looked down at him, at his closed eyes, at his sharp features. He was incredibly handsome. Why hadn't she noticed before? He was like those roman heroes, sharp nose, cheekbones, brow – Chuck was sharp all over. Like a blade. She could cut herself on him and bleed all of her life. He was danger and mystery, full of power and untold stories of broken loves and lust. He was that forbidden book in the very dark corner of the library, begging to be read so you could lose yourself in its sinful desires.

The tree of life. Eat once and you'll never be innocent again.

You'll be naked, and you'll be aware of your nakedness. Once you Chuck you can never go back.

"I want you." She kissed him and suckled on his mouth. "Just you."

He sat up, bringing her with him. She straddled his lap, and he rested his head on her shoulder.

"Happy Birthday," he said, and she smiled, burying her nose in his hair because it smelled like mint and cigarettes and was so deliciously Chuck that she could lose herself in it.

They peeled off their clothes and held each other, naked and bare and comfortable.

"This is the best birthday ever," she said as she stood and ran to the bathroom. When she came back, he was sitting on the bed, sheet over his torso and holding a black box.

"Good thing, I thought I was going to have to salvage it."

She smirked and walked to him, sitting on his lap, leaning back on his chest as he presented her the box.

"It's the Erickson Beamon necklace," she whispered, touching the hanging bits of the necklace. "I couldn't." She shook her head.

"Yes, you can," he said, firmly. She studied it and finally reached out to unclasp it and hold it up.

"Is it beautiful?" He asked.

She looked back at him and then back at the necklace.

"Yes. It is."

He nodded slowly and then offered to put it on her. She let him, being patient as he struggled with the clasp.

"Something this beautiful deserves to be seen on someone worthy of its beauty," he whispered, kissing her shoulder, the same place he had bit her. Kissing to make it better. She turned her head in and rested her cheek against his bent head.

"I know it's not a Vanderbilt ring…"

"I've had the ring on my finger, Chuck. It clashed with my couture," she told him, turning to face him.

They went to sleep then, bodies exhausted as they braced themselves for the coming storm. Because there was always a storm.

She wasn't one to sleep in, but this time she did. She slept in because he felt so amazing next to her that she didn't want to leave this place ever. When he woke they made love slowly and tenderly and it was incredibly intimate. They whispered endearments to each other, and it was officially the best birthday ever.

They spent the entire day together. She watched as he ordered his staff around, and he helped her with her history homework as she lounged on the sofa. As night began to fall, she wanted to see the city, so he had clothes brought for her and she went crazy for the Ferragamo dress he got her. He sat with a smile as she pranced around, looking at herself in the mirror.

When she turned to look at him, she saw sadness flitter across his face, but it was quickly replaced when he felt her walk to him. She sat on his lap again, because this was obviously becoming their thing, and pressed her lips to his.

"What's this, Waldorf?" He asked when she pulled back.

"I don't want you to be sad," she said and he held her closer.

"I'm not sad," he said, and she realized for the first time that Chuck Bass was lying. "Now, c'mon. Let's take you for dinner."

They held hands, which felt even more wonderful than sitting on his lap, and in the limo ride she described the city to him as she lay her head on his shoulder.

They arrived at Daniel's on East 65th and were immediately seated. His father owned the building, and they recognized him instantly. They shared the scallops for appetizer; for the main course, she went for the swordfish while he ordered the Sea Bass with a smirk.

Dinner was relatively quiet when she realized people were talking and staring at them. The heir of the Bass Inc. becoming blind had been Page 6 news, and she knew Chuck could feel them watching.

"Why don't we take desert to go?" She suggested, and he agreed, playing with his phone, avoiding conversation.

When they got back to the limo, she saw his shoulders relax so she slid up to him and straddled his lap.

"Not now, Blair," he said and turned away.

Her stomach felt empty regardless of the three bites of swordfish she had eaten.

She slid off him and they sat in silence until they stopped before her house. She looked out questioningly. She assumed they were going back to the Palace.

"I'm flying out tomorrow early for Thanksgiving."

She turned and looked at him. "We still have like two weeks left of school."

He shifted. "I wanted to get out early."

She sat staring at him, unable to say anything.

"Chuck," she said, coming closer, and his jaw twitched. "Talk to me. Please. Before I couldn't get you to shut up, and now you're all… broody."

"I don't brood, Waldorf," he snapped.

"Look in a mirror-" and this died in her lips.

He turned his head, as if he were looking out the window.

They sat in silence, as she stared at him and he ignored her.

"I told you I didn't care," she said softly.

"But I do," he said that and no more.

She was broken. She, his lover, was broken. She didn't know how to feel, how to react, what to say, what to do, where to go, where to run to.

"Will you call me?" She asked, hand on the door – because what else can you say?

He nodded.

And she knew he was lying.

--

The next morning, she sat up in the bed the moment the morning rays filtered through her window. She felt a loud thumping on her chest because she needed to talk to him and make him stay before he left.

She dressed as casual as Blair Waldorf was allowed, with Rock & Republic jeans and Tory Burch flats, and quickly grabbed a cab. She spent the ride to The Palace playing with her phone and tapping her foot impatiently.

When the elevator opened she stared numbly at Nate, whose face brightened when he saw her.

"Hey!" He said as he stepped off and stood in front of her.

She swallowed and blinked at him. "Nate."

"Not as happy as the other day," he commented, studying her.

"Things happen," she used as her explanation. She looked on to the elevator. "It's a bit early for a Chuck visit, isn't it?"

Nate's face darkened. "I know… did you know about this?"

She cocked her head, but a slow slimy, cold feeling crept its way into her stomach.

"About what?" She asked.

"Chuck flew out last night," Nate ran his hand over his hair. "Bart says he took some of his staff with him and just left."

"For Thanksgiving," her voice was small, because her world was suddenly so very small.

"Nah, he was spending Thanksgiving with us." Nate shrugged.

She stared at him and blinked once.

That's when Blair noticed she was shaking. She was painfully cold and confused and upset and so many things. She collapsed, but Nate caught her and pulled her against him.

"I haven't eaten," was the only thing she could think of as she held onto him. She felt dizzy and drained. And she blanked out.

--

When she woke, she realized she had missed the day. She must have missed the whole day because the sun was beginning to leave the sky.

"You slept for hours."

She blinked and saw Nate sitting next to her, leaning forward, his eyes full of worry.

"Where am I?" She asked quietly.

"Serena's." he responded. "I'll go get her. She sat with you most of the day."

She watched him walk away and then curled into a ball because she felt so extremely cold. It wasn't long before she felt the mattress dip and blonde hair was in her view of sight. She closed her eyes tightly.

"B?" Her voice was thick, and that's when Blair knew it was true. He was gone.

And she hated him; she hated him almost as much as she loved him because he left her. He just left her, and if she could, she would turn back the hands of time and never walk into his hospital room. Never bring him those stupid silly flowers, never bring him his homework. She would have just stayed the hell away.

Because one step towards him had left her heart torn and trampled. Cut by the blade that was Chuck Bass.

"Don't cry, B. Please don't cry..." She distantly heard Serena's voice.

But she didn't care who saw her cry. She read once that the human body was made of 70 percent water. She wanted to cry all of it out of her body until all that was left was that 30 percent of raw pain.

When she was done crying, her body was just involuntarily jumping from her silent sobs.

"He left you a letter," Serena said quietly.

"I don't want to cry anymore," she said, and her voice was so very thin and delicate that she wondered if she had broken it. If she had, would he come back now that she was mute and he was blind? They could be handicapped together.

"I can read it and give you a summary."

She reached out and grabbed the envelope from Serena's hand and brought it to her nose. It didn't smell like him.

"He didn't write it," she said.

"He's blind, Blair." Serena said, as if she were talking to a three year old.

"I know." Blair was tired of this being used as the excuse for everything that was Chuck Bass these days.

She looked on as Serena opened the beige envelope. The inside was lined with gold and she admitted she liked the stationary, but he couldn't have picked it out because, as Serena had just reminded her, he was blind.

Blair watched as Serena's lips moved as she silently read the letter and then her bright blue eyes looked at her. Wide and full of pain.

"Oh, B," she said quietly.

Blair closed her eyes and pressed her face to the pillow.

"Read it," she murmured into the cloth because if her face was covered but her ears opened then maybe it wouldn't be so very real.

"Blair," Serena began.

Blair's heart clenched.

Serena continued. "You're going to hate me, and I'm not going to do anything to stop it."

She bit her lip.

"So I won't apologize, because I know you won't forgive me. I need to do what I need to do in order to be happy and, though I know it doesn't matter to you, it does matter to me. I'm no good with feelings, Blair." Serena stopped, and Blair could hear her sniffling. "But I never thought that my best friend's girlfriend would be the one to make me feel this way. I still remember the first time I saw you, and I remember your smile. But the longer I hold you in the dark, the more distant those memories become, and the less I remember your face. I don't want to live the rest of my life with faded memories."

Serena stopped, and Blair turned to look at her.

"Here's looking at you, kid," Serena finished and put the letter down.

"Casablanca," Blair whispered.

"Casablanca," Serena agreed.

"I made him watch it some years ago. He was high," Blair said in a distant, monotone voice.

"B?" Serena slid down and laid her head next to hers, and both best friends looked at each other.

"I'm past the butterflies, S," Blair admitted, and Serena nodded, placing her hand over Blair's and squeezing it.

"He's going to see this crazy doctor that does some controversial operation," Blair said quietly.

"The worse that can happen is that he's still blind, and he will eventually come home," Serena tried to console her.

Tears dropped from Blair's eyes as she stared at Serena. "No, S. People have died."

"God himself couldn't kill Chuck Bass."

"That's what they said about the Titanic," Blair replied. Where was the humor?

And Serena didn't say anything else, because what else could she say? Blair lay in her bed until night came, and then finally turned to Serena and asked if they could watch 'When Harry Met Sally' because she needed a happy ending.

But Serena knew that the only reason Blair now wanted to see the film was because she needed to know that friends could one today become lovers, and at some magical point life would bring them together. There could still be a fairytale.

So she watched When Harry Met Sally, and she decided that she liked it. Nate walked in halfway through the film, and she ignored him because she couldn't look at him. She just couldn't.

He gave up and stood, leaving them be.

"Are you going to tell Nate?" Serena asked Blair once he was gone.

"No."

And they were silent about it.

--

"What the hell is that?" Eleanor had cried when Blair brought her new friend over.

"Her name is Ann and she's mine," Blair had told her.

Eleanor gapped at the silver-coated dog that happily wagged her tail at Eleanor.

"She was training to be a seeing-eye dog, but she didn't pass. They were going to place her in the city pound, but I rescued her and now she's mine."

Eleanor was still gaping at her, as if her daughter had lost all sense.

"She's a purebred, she's just stubborn." Blair petted Ann. Ann responded happily, licking Blair's hand and sitting on her hind legs.

"Absolutely out of the question, Blair." Eleanor glared at the animal.

"I've never had an animal, mother. I'm keeping her," Blair said, holding her ground. "You're hardly ever home, anyways. I need company. She stays."

Eleanor would've shouted at her but, after a couple of weeks of moping around the house and that disaster during Thanksgiving, she nodded, tersely.

"I expect you to be responsible for her, Blair," Eleanor began and pulled back, grimacing when Ann barked.

"That just means she's happy," Blair tried to smile.

"Don't start translating, Blair or I'll ask you to tell her to leave my house."

--

To be honest, Blair didn't really spend that much time with Ann; but they did have their daily walks in the park, and Blair found it lovely to enjoy the fall.

Every morning, before school, she would put on her flat boots, and Ann would wag her tail because she knew it was time for the walk. Ann was extremely well-behaved. Except she hated baths, so Blair would just spray her with Dior.

It was a morning in December when she ran into Nate. Well, he was running while she was looking off into the distance when he called out to her.

"What are you doing here?" His face was fresh and happy and so very Nate that she found herself missing those moments when he was the center of her world. In a way, things had been so much simpler that time.

"Walking Ann," she responded, pointing to the silver animal studying Nate.

"I didn't know you had a dog." His face was bright, as if she'd just given him a grand surprise.

She gave him a tight smile. "She was training to be a blind-seeing dog, but she didn't pass. So I adopted her."

Nate's smile fell when he realized who she had been intended for. "Oh."

"Yeah," Blair looked around, uncomfortable.

Ann chose that moment to chase a bird and pulled Blair with her. When she finally made her stop, her hair was all over the place and she was laughing.

Nate was also smiling, at her and she didn't know where to look because too many kisses had been shared with Chuck since Nate had looked at her that way.

She felt his eyes staring at her as she walked away, giving him a small wave.

She was trying to do homework when Dorota called up and told her Nate was here to visit her. Ann went into a barking attack mode, and Dorota had to calm her down.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" She asked as she got to the last step.

"Well I… you know, after rehearsal, I just couldn't stop thinking about you. I mean, the ball is something we've talked about doing together since we were ten years old." His eyes were wide and blue. "And I've given you every reason to hate me."

Blair closed her eyes and looked away. "Nate, please."

He stepped closer.

"And the Prince is…" He let out a small breath. "He's a great dancer and all, but is there any chance you'll go with me instead… for old times' sake?"

"Nate," she sighed and took him in. "I think… I think that at this point, we've moved on."

She made to move, but he placed his hands on her shoulders and squeezed slightly.

"Yeah, I know." He looked down and let her shoulders go. "I know _you've_ moved on. I can see it in your eyes."

He lifted his sleeve, and she realized what sweater he was wearing.

"Look, I haven't worn this sweater in, like, forever, and I pulled it out today and I found this."

There it was. The trinket that had started it all. A little piece of golden metal that signified something that was so very broken now.

"It's my pin. I sewed it there so you'd always have my heart on your sleeve," she smiled at the memory of her 13 year old self. She had been so very innocent then; so full of hope and dreams.

"I know." He smiled. "You know, I figured you might need it back…"

She smiled softly and held out her hand. His eyes fell a bit, but he dutifully pulled it off the cloth.

"My heart belongs to me, Nate," Sshe said quietly and then smiled at him as he placed it on her hand. She studied the small item and decided to pocket it. She looked up at him and was filled with a sudden need for things to go back the way they were. For things to be normal and so very un-chaotic. She looked at him and saw his crestfallen expression and then straightened out.

"I think the Prince will understand," she said softly. "Maybe we should go to the ball together. As friends."

She set her gaze on him so he would understand that she meant it.

"Absolutely." He looked too eager, but she decided to let it pass.

"But only as friends." And then she smiled at him.

She watched him walk out and sat at the last step while Ann found her and laid her sad head on her lap.

"I used to think I would marry him," she told the dog. Ann was a great listener and she smiled sadly at her. "But I decided to stay an old maid and take care of you for the rest of my life."

Ann licked her face, and Blair blanched. She had to draw the line somewhere.

--

As she bid goodbye to the New York Times reporter, she explained that she was going with Nathaniel Archibald instead.

"We're still great friends," she said and smiled. "And he's a perfect gentleman."

When he left she wandered why her mouth felt so very dry.

Cotillion went as a cotillion should go. She was presented, and Nate danced with her before everyone. She was gliding in his arms, but she felt hollow inside. Why couldn't she be happy? What was she so desperately missing? Did she forget to remind Dorota to feed Ann?

"You don't look happy." Nate was frowning down at her.

And she looked up at him.

Where was the warmth and the love that she had thought she felt for him all those years? Where had they gone to? Why couldn't she breathe?

"I'm in love with Chuck."

He stopped them abruptly and dropped his arms from her. He stared down at her, eyes uncertain. As if the wind had whispered it to him instead of her lips.

"What?" His voice was quiet and so far away.

"I fell in love with Chuck," she repeated. She was pretty sure she was having an out-of-body experience.

There was hurt in his eyes so very violent that she could hardly hold his gaze, but she did. He deserved this much.

"You're… you fell in love with Chuck? Chuck Bass? My best friend, Chuck?" He repeated, his tone becoming louder and attracting more attention.

He gave her one last look and turned to stalk away, leaving her on the dance floor. She didn't know why she followed him, but she did. Maybe she was angry; maybe she wanted to fight with him. Maybe she was desperate for him to get some life into him, because if he had more life and light, then he would be more like Chuck. And she was so very thirsty for Chuck. All of these emotions and feelings were coming out of her mouth because her eyes had run dry a long time ago.

"Nate!" She cried after him, holding her skirts up. They were in a deserted hallway, and he turned abruptly to her, keeping her still with his angry gaze.

"Did you sleep with him?" He demanded, stalking up to her.

She backed up against the wall, breathing loudly as he took her face in.

'I let Chuck Bass fuck me and I liked it.' was written all over her face. 'I would do it again. Right now. In this hallways with you watching.'. And he saw it.

"That son of a bitch!" He cried turning from her, unable to look at her. He paced back and forth, hands on his hips, unable to stray his eyes from the floor. He finally stopped in front of her.

"How many times?" He asked.

She shook her head; she was not going to answer that.

"How many times?" He yelled, grabbing her shoulder and shaking her.

"Are you going to hurt me, Nate?" She demanded.

He dropped his hands as if she'd burned him.

"How many times, Blair." He was holding back the tears, and she couldn't look at him anymore.

She remained quiet. She had never seen Nate lose it like this, and he frightened her.

"How many times?" Nate cried again.

"It lasted a few days," she finally said, her eyes never leaving his. "And it wasn't just sex."

He swallowed, his eyes losing their shine. As if she had just pulled his plug.

"We never meant for it to happen, but I _never_ cheated on you," she said quickly. He punched the wall next to her so hard that it made her jump.

"The morning before your birthday," his eyes softened. "When you got off the elevator." He took her in. "You looked so…"

She looked at his hand; it was bleeding. The maroon drops of life falling one by one onto the carpet.

"You threw us away because he's _blind_ and suddenly you felt _attracted_ to him?" He said, low and hissing.

"It's not like that."

"Then what is it like? Because the Chuck Bass I know fucks every woman he meets – hell, he's fucked half the women in the room next door, and apparently he's now fucked the only woman in _this_ room."

She pulled back, as if slapped.

"I didn't throw us out. You took out the trash a long time ago. Can I remind you of Serena? And I feel a lot more than attraction towards him, but I don't owe you an explanation." Her voice was low and venomous.

"I can't look at you," he spat. "You two deserve each other."

So she slapped him. Slapped him hard, so hard that she was pretty sure she had broken something.

His head turned, and he looked right at her. And this he grabbed her face, pulling her to him.

She didn't know why she let him kiss her. Perhaps it was because she was so desperately destroyed and anything was better than nothing. Perhaps it was the way he was kissing her. Full of anger and pain. It was raw and Nate had never been like this with her. Chuck had.

And she was drowning in the feeling. Her hands grabbed his hair as she frantically inhaled all that he was offering her. Before she knew it they were in a room; hands all over each other. His hands fumbling clumsily with the wrapper, hissing as his erection bobbled before him.

Where was her fairytale? Her twisted fairytale.

Her prince; she didn't love. Her love; she didn't have. His kisses; were never kind. Her moans; were not for him. The hands she felt; were not his own.

His name was not on her lips.

There was no more fairytale.

He pushed himself off her once they were done, and he rolled next to her, chest rising and falling.

She wouldn't look at him. She just looked ahead. She didn't touch him. His skin was poison.

He turned and began putting on his clothes, and she watched him. Everything they had been was finally destroyed. They had crumbled.

"Goodbye, Blair."

And he slammed the door behind him. She didn't cry that night. Or the night after. On the third night, she cried and swore she would hate Chuck Bass for as long as she lived. She would hate him as much as she loved him.

--

To be continued.

Thank you everyone for your awesome feedback - I'm very happy that you're enjoying the fiction so far. As you can tell it's getting darker and will get darker before it's done. I also decided that it's going to be 6 chapters long so not long to go now. :)


	5. I Saw the Desert

**I Saw the Desert** (Chapter 5 of _See No Evil_)

Author: Isabelle

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Gossip Girl characters; this is just for a fun & entertainment.

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Set after 'Bad New Blair', an accident leads Chuck to lose his sight. He and Blair slowly grow closer as she helps him adjust to the loss of his sight. Chuck/Blair.

Special thanks to Tati, my awesome BETA

--

"_What makes the desert beautiful is that somewhere it hides a well." – Antoine de Saint-Exupery_

She was violently tempted to go to Paris with her father when they left for Christmas, but she was a big girl. A big, strong girl.

So she stayed.

Because Blair Waldorf was still a romantic she began to start looking back at her life to find some clues of foreshadowing. Because every great story had foreshadowing, and hers would be no different. She pulled out her mental album of memories and began to remember Chuck Bass.

She remembered the first time she was aware of his presence. He started school later than her, Nate, and Serena. It wasn't until 4th grade that Chuck was registered in their same prep school. He didn't talk much and made absolutely no friends. He always stuck his hands in his pockets and would watch them in the playground.

Serena laughing and running, Nate chasing after her, and Blair collecting little wild flowers that would grow by the large oak tree. The first time she spoke to him was after they were let outside following many days of rain. She found a few flowers, and he brought her a mushroom.

A mushroom.

"Take it," were his first words.

She had shaken her brown curls at him and sniffed, lifting her nose. "Those are gross. I only do flowers."

He just stared her down. Her nostrils had flared, and she had gone in search of Nate.

Sometime in 4th grade, Nate and Chuck became best friends, and she remembered resenting Chuck because now she didn't have Nate's undivided attention. Not like she ever did, but that was not the point. She remembered his stares as he studied her from the sidelines. She always thought he was creepy.

He was pale with slightly slanted eyes, very thin with a mess of brown hair and a smirk that chilled her. Nate was angelic and pure, with gold-spun hair and clear blue eyes. But it was Chuck's gaze that chilled her, because he saw through her. When her evil bitchy side would come out, his smirk would be accentuated even more.

"I saw you push that girl," he had said to her one morning as their teacher turned around and walked to the board. She turned sharply to stare at him in disgust. She didn't even understand why he talked to her.

"I did no such thing," she had hissed.

His smirk widened. "Don't get me wrong, Waldorf. I completely approve."

That was the first time he had used her last name. So she decided to return the favor.

"Shut it, Bass," she had snapped, but was secretly pleased that he approved because Horatia really had it coming.

That magic summer, or the summer when elementary school ended and they were about to start middle school, Chuck made a name for himself for kissing almost 10 girls.

She never understood why girls just fell all over themselves for him. She groaned in disgust as her 11 year old self contemplated this.

He had this horrible monkey that sat on his shoulder and wore matching pink bow-ties. His mother bought him this ridiculous scarf, and he would wear it in the middle of Spring. Ugh. And he smelled of cigarettes and mint – it was a horrible combination.

He was the first of the group to smoke, and Georgina Sparks followed right along. It was ridiculous how Georgina threw herself at him. She would often have to roll her eyes and thank God she was raised with sense.

The most acute memory she had of that time was at a party Serena threw in the middle of 6th grade, at which Georgina got very drunk – and this amused Chuck to no end. He had waltzed to Nate and her and said in a not-so-low voice that he was going to fuck Georgina Sparks that night.

She had blushed furiously red, and he had noticed. He always noticed her.

"What's wrong, Waldorf?" He had sneered when he caught her alone. "Wish it were you?"

"You couldn't get a girl like me if God himself cleaned your soul," she had snapped, turning away from him.

His chuckle vibrated along her arm and to her neck.

Later that night when he pulled Georgina against him, and the skank went with him willingly, she had felt him look at her. She looked on back because she was not going to back down from the challenge.

As Georgina kissed his neck and grinded herself against him, he threw her a wink and she had decided she hated him.

The night became even worse when Nate decided to try pot for the first time and was stoned the rest of the night. She blamed it on Chuck, of course.

Their relationship slowly changed – mostly because he was so preoccupied banging anything in his field of vision that she began to disassociate the young pale boy with the scotch-drinking player he had converted to. Most especially after his mother died.

The first time she felt violent hatred towards him was that day he pulled that horrible trick on her. At lunch, he had placed his bag next to her and, as he pulled out his phone, a lacy red thong came out. It had landed on Blair's lap, and she shrieked. Both Chuck and Nate laughed it up, and so did Serena. She hated them all and, when he went to her to apologize, she attempted to ignore him.

"It was a joke, Waldorf!" He had still been smiling as he looked at her while she packed her books.

She had glared at him and walked away, leaving all three of them laughing at her. But then he had followed her.

"Hey, wait up!" He had jogged up to her and threw his arm over her shoulders. She quickly pushed him away.

"I hate you," she had snapped.

He was still smiling. "Yeah, sure you do. Look, it was a joke. They're clean."

This pleased her a bit, but she wasn't going to let him know that.

"That is just disgusting, Bass. I am a lady. You don't do that in front of ladies." She was red and hated him for making her red. And where was Nate? He should've been affronted at Chuck's behavior, not amused.

He had stopped laughing and was gazing down at her, and she didn't know how to react because Chuck Bass only gazed at short skirts.

"I know you're a lady," he had said quietly, and she hadn't known how to respond to that.

"Well, you just know everything, don't you?" She had snapped.

"I know everything about _you_," he had answered, and then he had stuck his hands in his pockets and walked away. She stared after him for a moment before shaking herself off and walking to the other direction.

That was her moment, she realized as she remembered. He had always watched her and Nate together, but he had mostly watched her. He knew if she was happy, if she was sad, if she was angry if – anything. Chuck Bass knew her more than Nate ever could. Chuck would've noticed if she had been in love with someone else. He would've known the moment before it happened, when it happened, and why it happened.

She closed her eyes and willed herself not to think of her and Chuck as children because it pained her. Because she missed him so very much that she was sure it was consuming her.

"What are you wearing?" He had asked her in 9th grade. She had rolled her eyes and glared at him.

"A Waldorf original," she had said.

"Enrolling in a nunnery later?" He had commented.

"Disappear, Bass." She had snapped.

"Like your legs? I mean, you have an amazing pair of legs, and here you are hiding them under yards of… what _is_ this material?" He had scrunched his face as he studied the fabric on her sleeve.

She had slapped his hand away and glowered at him. "It's silk taffeta."

"It's appalling." He had smirked.

"Please leave me alon-" and her words had been cut off when she saw Rachel Hills, a 10th grader, throwing herself at Nate. Chuck followed her line of vision and smiled that evil smile of his.

Blair's insides had boiled as her mind went into hyper drive.

"Nate seems… distracted tonight," he had mused, watching for her reaction.

"Who does she think she is?" She had hissed, placing her hands on her hips.

He took in her pose and chuckled into his scotch.

"Only one way of showing her who's Queen," he said softly, still looking at her in that way of his. Her insides danced a bit because no one had ever called her a Queen except for her father, and he obviously didn't count.

She had slowly turned to look at him and that expression of pure mischievous glint was fascinating to her.

"Everyone's got a skeleton in their closet, Waldorf," he had raised his brow, suggestively. "The question is – what are you going to do about it."

And just like, that Blair and Chuck had become scheming partners.

She missed him. She missed him so much, she couldn't breathe. She missed him so very much that she didn't realize she had missed her period.

And just like that, reality came crashing back to her.

"If I ask you to do something, will you not judge me or question me?" She asked Serena over the phone. "Will you just do it?" She knew there was a twinge of desperate hysteria in her voice, but she couldn't help it.

So help her God, if that blind bastard had gotten her pregnant, she would send a swat team to Germany and drag his ass back.

"B, you're scaring me." Serena said. It was bad enough that her best friend was worried about her all the time, and she knew she wasn't being fair by being so very vague, but she had to do it.

"Buy me a pregnancy test."

The line was silent and she trembled, pressing her fingers against her eyes.

Oh God, oh God. She was not ready.

She felt sick.

She needed to be sick.

Oh, God.

"What?" Serena had nearly yelled.

"Shhh!" Blair looked behind the door to make sure Dorota wasn't spying on her. Making her eat, making her get out and live life. She was getting right down motherly.

"B…"

"Please. Just do it." And she hung up.

That morning she would look flawless and stunning. She carefully chose her clothes and inspected her perfection in the mirror. The sadness in her eyes confirmed to her that she was a shell.

The bile was at her throat before she could make it to the toilet. She had to wipe the floor around the toilet and she wondered if you puked enough would the baby plop right out.

She was tired of pretending, so very tired. Her body felt exhausted and her emotions were frayed. So when she spotted Serena walking to school, she left her audience and grabbed the blonde, pulling her behind a wall.

Serena was looking at her wide eyed and concerned.

"Sorry about the blast," she told her.

Serena sighed. "Dan told me he loved me."

"Because he thought you were pregnant?" She inquired.

"Because he thought I was pregnant."

She felt bad. If Serena felt just a quarter of what she felt towards Chuck, then she understood. She understood completely.

"Thank you." They exchanged the item.

"Do you want me to be with you when you do it?" Serena asked her quietly.

"I can't be pregnant. I command myself not to be pregnant," she said firmly.

"B."

"No. Because if I am, it's his, and I can't handle it." And she walked away, because her world was so crumbled that all was left was the grand front entrance where kings and queens once used to walk through.

She used to be a Queen once. But what was a Queen without her King? She was no Elizabeth.

That afternoon she stared down at the stick, sending it mental signals.

"Listen to me, you stick of death," she explained. "So, yes, I did have unprotected sex, and it was amazing. But that doesn't mean you have to take it out on me or punish me. I mean… he was devastated; it was an act of kindness and love, so that doesn't mean that you should tell me I'm pregnant. 'Cause I'm not."

The stick looked like it was listening to her, so she decided to pee on it.

It was negative.

And she didn't know why, but it made her desperately sad. No need to send a swat team to get him because she was fine. She was just fine.

She was fine without him.

--

His name was Colt.

Colt Elmers, son Jay Elmers from the Marionettes. The Marionettes had been throwing out #1 albums since the 60's. He transferred from London and there was something in his brilliant almost-pale blue eyes that drew Blair in. He shaved his head so all that was left were little stubbles of black hair.

He painted his nails with Chanel's Black Satin, and she had decided he was gross and beneath her. He dressed in black and never tied his shoes. He didn't smell particularly well, and he drove a motorcycle to school. He had five tattoos (including a tear drop under his right eye) and a jaw to die for. Every girl in Constance wanted to be devoured by him. Once in a while he would arrive with a guitar case swung over his back. A musician. Ugh.

He showed up, uninvited to a party that she threw in order to cement her status as Queen B. There had been some trembling in the ranks, and she had to cut down two bitches and remind everyone who exactly controlled the guillotine.

He caught her hiding in her room because she felt suffocated and she was avoiding Nate, who was downstairs petting some freshman.

"So…" he began, leaning against her door, his thick English accent doing nothing for his looks. Yeah, right! "… why do they call you Queen B, Queen B?"

She had swallowed and arched her brow.

"Leave my room. You're not invited," she said.

He smiled at her, showing her a dimple – so she quickly looked away. "That's why, then, kitten? Got the personality of an angry cat, do you?"

Oh, she almost smacked him.

"They say you're hung up on some blind guy," he chuckled, and this made her blood boil.

He looked around her room and sniggered in near disgust. She shifted because she knew her room belonged to a Princess. She liked it this way. Chuck liked it this way.

"God, have you even had sex in that bed?" He drawled, eyeing her pale-blue sheets. Her bed; the sight of many almost-done-its.

"I demand you leave," she snapped.

"You're too high strung, baby." He walked closer to her, and she moved back. "If you like, I'd take care of that. Show you a real good time."

She slapped him, and he liked it.

She was happy to see Cabbage Patch when she reached the end of the stairs, because he had no problem throwing Colt out when she feigned having been harassed by him. Well, he technically had harassed her. Cabbage Patch did have his uses.

She attempted to ignore Colt until his eyes burned her back, and she finally stalked up to him and his druggie friends at school.

"You, walk with me," she snapped at him, and she rolled her eyes because he liked it.

"My lady," he said, and she looked away.

"I'm going to ask you nicely, which is something completely against my nature, to please stop looking at me." Her jaw was set and she looked her fiercest.

"Don't flatter yourself, your Majesty," he chuckled, and she fought the urge to pull his earring until it bled.

"I tell you you're heinous, and now you're going to play stupid also?"

He smirked at her and leaned in.

"Is it true then?" He whispered. "About the blind guy."

She felt her blood boil and about to explode.

"His name was Chuck," she snarled. "And Blair Waldorf does not get 'hung up'."

He plastered a nasty British smile on his face and lit a cigarette. "You're hung on something, highness."

"Will you stop staring?" She demanded, almost stomping her foot.

"No." he said and blew smoke in her face. "Because when I look at you I imagine the _first_ position I will get you in. I can't seem to decide. I'm between us on my bike and you on my cock, or you on all fours-"

SMACK.

She glowered at him.

SMACK.

His cigarette fell from his mouth, and his eyes narrowed.

She turned and left. She was going to have to get a restraining order against the blue-eyed bastard.

A few days later, Serena had to almost drag her to the party at Victrola. Out of all places, Victrola. She tried every excuse she could think of, but she was dangerously close to losing her throne to Hazel and Penelope, who seemed to have published tales of her and Colt in various positions. Those bitches didn't take a hint. It was going to take a lot more than herpes rumors to get rid of them.

It was time for the Regent Queen to make herself known.

So she bought a black Valentino and paired it with fire-engine red Manolo Blahniks and headed to the party. Because if anyone was going to die, it would be under the heel of her 5-inch shoe. Her lips were red, her hair was curled, and she was going to kill the memories she had previously made there.

When the girls saw her, they breathed out.

"Blair, wow you look-"

"I know," she breathed, satisfied. There was no one taking her throne away, especially a hand-me-down wearing, 14 year-old slut.

"Well, you certainly look spectacular," a voice drawled next to her, and she froze, placing a carefully planned sneer on her face as she turned to face him.

"Are you stalking me?" She demanded, hand on her hip.

"I'm must say, I'm fascinated by you and your little act." He looked her up and down, slowly licking his lips and making goosebumps ride all over her arms. "Prim and proper with little headbands, by day and at night you come rocking this red lipstick and come-fuck-me heels."

She should've worn the gray shoes.

He was dangerously close, and she didn't like it. She didn't like it one bit.

She turned and headed upstairs. The club had done so well, that Bass Inc. had bought the upstairs and made it into a two-floor club. From above, you could see the dancers and everyone else as they continued drinking the night away.

Serena was nowhere in sight and, no matter how often she texted her, she didn't respond.

That's when he cornered her. He pressed her up against a wall and smelled her in a way that sent chills up and down her spine.

"Get off me," she pushed at him.

"Did this guy taint you or something, princess?" Colt whispered in her ear as his hand caressed her hip. "No other man does it for you?"

She froze and dropped a stare on him. "That's assuming you're a man, not a desperate, foolish boy with premature ejaculation."

He smiled, and his finger paused its caress as he stared at her. Wide clear blue eyes.

"Are you in love with him?" He asked quietly.

"Yes," she didn't know why she answered it.

He nodded slowly.

"So… you want to make out?"

And she did, because Victrola itself was suffocating, and he smelled like cigarettes.

--

She let absolutely no one know that she made out with Colt Elmers. Colt must have been happy to play along, because he began 'dating' some bitch from the Upper West Side. One that had a nose ring.

He did pull her against a wall one morning and licked from her neck to her ear.

"Good morning, gorgeous." And he walked away.

She was sure she was definitely defective when she realized it didn't turn her on. Chuck had broken her sex drive, and she would be one of those women that never married, always wore pearls, and owned a fabulous dog. She would be Queen of the UES all of her life and always remember love lost.

It was so Edward Scissorhands that it chilled her. She hated Edward Scissorhands.

It was very early March when she wandered to the Palace in order to find her best friend and ran into Bart Bass.

She had carefully avoided him at all cost, but now here she was, looking at him.

"Mr. Bass," she greeted him, smiling her perfect Blair smile. "How are you?"

"Blair, lovely to see you," he greeted her with his ever-so-constant facial expression. "Here to see Serena?"

The Van der Woodsen family had moved in with Bart Bass and that thought was disturbing in itself.

"Yes," she said brightly, backing away to the elevator. "Is she here?"

He nodded. "I spoke to Charles the other day."

Her insides froze, and she was sure her face had gone pale, but Bart Bass continued as if he noticed nothing.

"He inquired about you. I told him you were well." He paused and studied her.

"Is he well?" The question left her mouth before she could stop it.

He nodded, gave her a small smile and walked away, an assistant trailing behind him.

God dammit, now she would keep thinking about that slimy Basstard the entire night.

He had asked about her. How about come see her? Oh, that's right – he was blind and getting some dangerous operation in hopes of being able to see once more.

God, she hated him. Poor Serena had to hear about this all night.

"I mean, what does it mean?" They munched on chocolates.

"I don't know, B."

Granted, she had asked this question five times already, but that was no reason for Serena to be totally unenthusiastic about it.

"Should I email him?" She asked. "That'll be no use. He can't see."

"Maybe his assistant can read it for him?" Serena suggested.

She pursed her lips.

She had to do something; this man was taking over her entire life, her thoughts, and controlling every aspect of her life. I mean, they weren't even married and this was happening. How had everything gone so very wrong?

She wondered how he would look in a tux as she walked down the isle.

God, she was pathetic.

"Maybe you need a rebound guy." Serena suggested in the hopes of steering the conversation away from Chuck.

Blair had tried the re-bound guy and no matter how amazing a kisser Colt was, she still tasted Chuck Bass on his breath.

Serena caught her going through a bridal magazine Lily had discarded on the living room table and glared at her.

"What are you doing?" She demanded, hands on hips.

"White is totally my color," she defended.

"You are pathetic."

And Serena was right – which was a rare occasion indeed.

So when Georgiana showed up to wreck havoc on Serena's life, it was a welcomed distraction. She ran into Georgina, of course, as she exited Butter on a girl's night out.

"Snow White." Georgina smiled at her, blue-glazed eyes amused.

She rolled her eyes and considered pushing her into oncoming traffic, but decided to be a lady and ignore her. Georgina stood by as Blair attempted to get a cab. Where _were_ the doormen nowadays?

"So, is he still as amazing as he was back then?" Georgina hissed, taking a drink from her martini glass. Where there no police on horseback in New York? "There's something in the way he thrusts into you. I knew even then. He had such potential."

"I can't believe you would even remember, considering all you ever wish for is a certain blonde's tongue," Blair snapped, exhaling as a yellow cab finally made a stop.

"Too bad he's blind, or I would fuck him now." Georgina opened the door for her, and she sneered at the blue-eyed devil. "It's very romantic, I think… considering…"

The bitch let the last word hang so openly in the air that Blair had an internal conflict over what to do.

Considering? Considering what?

Ugh. She hated Georgina Sparks.

"You know you want to know what I know, and you know I know a lot. An awful lot." That smirk.

She looked away.

"Stay away, Georgina. Or I'll destroy you," she spit, venomously.

"Sixth grade," she chuckled. "Remembered, B?"

She moved to the cab and ignored the whore.

"Man, he had it bad for you even then. Fascinated by you, he was."

This made her pause. She took a deep breath and did something she would probably regret.

"Get in," she snapped at Sparks. Georgina gave her an angelic smile and pleasantly scooted next to her after she tossed her martini on the side of the street, causing the glass to break into a hundred pieces.

"I'm so glad we're bonding, B."

"Yeah, so am I," she growled sarcastically.

"If you think I'm going to give you some insight into Chuck Bass, you're going to have to pepper my Ragu."

Blair grimaced. "Eww."

Georgina smiled, pleased with herself.

"I just want everything to go back to the way it was, B. You understand. You would know, considering you would like Chuck back so that your little Spring wedding dreams can be complete."

Ugh, she should kick the slut out of the car.

"I don't trust you," Blair snapped.

"I don't trust you, either, Snow White." Georgina lit a blunt and smirked at Blair. "But I can help you blind-boy back."

"If you think I can get Serena to like you, then let me inform you that no one can do that. You've dug a hole so deep you'll find Hell before Hitler does."

Georgina chuckled, "Attempt it, baby. Because I'm the only one who doesn't mind getting their hands dirty enough to find someone like Chuck Bass. And you know when he doesn't want to be found… it'll take a hound the find him. I'm a hound, baby."

Georgina touched her hair and Blair slapped her hand away.

"S for C, B?" Georgina asked sweetly.

This hit Blair's spot, and her blood froze like never before.

"Stop the car," she snapped at the driver.

"B, what the hell-"

Blair yanked the door opened and ignored the horns and unique New York insults that filtered her way. She pulled Georgina out by her arm and threw her on the street.

"The next time you try to play us against each other your life will come to a sudden halt," She sneered at her.

Georgina was looking at her as if she'd grown a head.

Blair simply smiled, tossed the bitch her purse, and re-entered her cab.

The bitch didn't listen because she got a frantic call from Serena that Georgina had drugged her and she would miss her SATs.

This was getting out of control, and she missed the one person who could put Georgina in her place. The one person that was as smart as her, but was as evil as Georgina .

God, she missed him.

Her SATs went perfectly and as she walked out of the building, she saw a limo that she didn't expect. Her heart sped up but, looking around, she didn't see him. Her girls walked up to her.

"Nelly Yuki?" Penelope asked, but Blair was distracted. She couldn't even remember who Nelly Yuki was.

"There's Colt," Hazel pointed out and some of the girls sighed, Blair just rolled her eyes just as Colt gave her his sultry stare.

"He's overrated," she informed them. Her thoughts were law, after all. That did nothing to distract the girls' eyes. That's when she saw Nate with Vanessa, and it surprised her to see that she didn't really care. Good for him, she thought. Good for him.

"Where are we headed to now? Butter? Socialista?" Iz asked, looking at Blair hopefully.

"I…"

"Oh my God, Blair!"

Blair didn't hear Penelope's exclamation, but in the back of her throat she knew what had caused the commotion because something in the air changed, and she found it very difficult to breathe.

The girls parted and there at the bottom of the stairs was none other than Chuck Bass. Black coat on, scarf loose around his neck with his sunglasses on, looking down. His hands were in his pockets, and he was leaning casually against the stair handle.

"Chuck," his name was out of her lips before she could control it.

The girls all stared at her, and the confirmation of those whispered rumors became all too real.

He turned his head up slowly and then he casually removed his sunglasses and stared right at her.

"Waldorf," he smirked.

His eyes were deep, dark, and as sultry as they had been in sixth grade. He blinked at her and nodded.

She would've run to him – after she yelled at him, of course – but their reunion was interrupted by a very angry Nate, who grabbed Chuck from the side, hoisted him up and slammed him on top of a parked taxi.

Well, shit. Damn Nate and his timing.

--

To be continued

A/N: I will be posting the conclusion to the story before the weekend is out because I want to be done with it before Season 2 begins on Monday. Thank you everyone for the reviews and I apologize for the lack of Chuck in this chapter but we she needed to be without him for a while to realize how much she loved him. J


	6. Prince Charming Dissected

**Prince Charming Dissected** (Chapter 6 of _See No Evil_)

Author: Isabelle

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Gossip Girl characters; this is just for a fun & entertainment.

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Set after 'Bad New Blair', an accident leads Chuck to lose his sight. He and Blair slowly grow closer as she helps him adjust to the loss of his sight. Chuck/Blair.

Special thanks to Tati, my awesome BETA

--

"_Someday your prince charming will come. Mine just took a wrong turn, got lost, and is too stubborn to ask for directions." Unknown._

In reality, and if told from the perspective of a rational and ordinary mind, the purpose of Prince Charming is an ideology instilled in little girls in order to make them dream of a great tomorrow.

Blair Waldorf was anything but rational or ordinary, and the fact that either could be combined in the same sentence was both insulting and degrading.

Despite her fallen tears, her broken heart, and her broken past, Blair Waldorf was still very much a romantic. And romantics have a dim hope, never broken, never stilled, never forgotten, and always there. She was sure it was all those sappy black & white films she watched as a child. Sitting on her silk duvet and twirling her fingers as Liesl sang 'I am Sixteen' to a beautiful blond, blue eyed boy who kissed her in the rain. How perfect it was! And there he was – her own boy come back to claim her.

She felt her anger towards him instantly dissipate, and she just wanted to be in his arms once more, warm under the covers.

So when she stared at Chuck and he stared back at her, it was that moment of confirmation. That moment in all of those movies that she had seen. Prince Charming would come back, and he would be stunning. He would appear in the bottom of the stairs and sweep her off her feet. They would move to an Irish castle and have tartan-wearing babies.

It was Deborah Kerr and Cary Grant at the end of _An Affair to Remember._

"_If you can paint, I can walk."_

If we can forgive each other, Chuck – I'll be yours.

He blinked at her, and she was sure she'd forgiven him before his lashes touched his skin, but the world paused as Nate slammed Chuck on top of a parked taxi.

"You slept with her!" Nate screamed.

The entire student body stopped to look at them.

Chuck stayed cool and stared at his former best friend with hooded eyes. Blair ran forward.

The calm stare from Chuck was enough for Nate to want to strangle him.

"You son of a bitch!"

Chuck's jaw twitched.

"Look, can we talk about this without your hands around my neck?"

"And then you left her – like you did with all those other girls!" Nate shook him and walked away, pacing.

Oh God, her laundry was so aired out, it was painful.

This pissed Chuck off; she could see it in his eyes.

"Yes, Nathaniel. I took what Blair kept throwing at you, and you kept throwing back."

Blair's stomach dropped and she wished the earth would swallow her whole.

"Oh, so somehow you screwing Blair for sport is _my_ fault?"

Oh God, oh God.

"It wasn't for sport!" Chucked yelled. "We both needed someone."

"So you love her?" Nate was in his face again. "Do you?"

Chuck's jaw was twitching so furiously that Blair was afraid he might break it.

"You guys were broken up," Chuck ground out, eyes still narrowed.

"The same night!"

This caught Chuck's attention, and he looked at Blair. She couldn't meet his eyes, so she looked away.

"Yes, she told me," Nate hissed, and then she heard his next words because she was just close enough to. "Right before we screwed."

Chuck's face dropped, and Blair's hope flared up like little pieces of burnt paper, floating in the wind.

"Now we come full circle, don't we?" Nate whispered, then shoved Chuck one last time before turning and walking away.

Chuck turned to Blair, and with just one look at her, she knew he knew it was true.

"Chuck," she tried. He turned, and before she could stop him, he jumped on Nate, punching.

Three guys had to pry them off each other.

She was crying by the time Nate slammed the door to his limo and Dan managed to hold Chuck off.

She walked to him, her steps small as she gazed at him. His nose was bleeding and his cheek was already bruising on his pale skin. He pushed Dan off him and stalked towards his limo. Blair went after him, her heart racing. He stopped—he sensed her—and turned to look at her.

"Don't follow me," he hissed.

She shifted, still staring at him, incredulously.

"No," she replied.

He cocked his head and studied her, wiping his nose with his scarf.

"Get in," he relented and opened the limo for her. She slid in and jumped when he slammed the door after himself.

She stared at him wondrously, but he looked ahead.

"The Palace," he instructed his driver, and they sat in silence.

"Chuck," she began.

"Please don't talk. I have a headache."

She noticed two small scars on the side of his eyes and gulped.

He pressed his fingers lightly over his nose and winced.

She moved closer, unable to stop herself. He glared at her, and she couldn't help but smile. How long it had been since he had glared at her?

His eyes softened and he sighed.

"Why are you smiling?" He asked.

"Because you're back," she said in a small, tiny voice. "And the fact that you did it; and are now here, sitting next to me… I don't care how much you hate me right now. I love you, and I missed your glare."

There was a tear escaping her eye. He shifted for a moment but never took his eyes off her. Finally, he sighed, pulling her close. She let out a sob against him, grasping onto him for dear life.

"I can't stay mad at you," he whispered against her face. "I love you too damn much."

She pulled back and stared into his eyes, smiling. He loved her. She knew it, she always knew it – from the moment he first kissed her. She knew it, but his words healed her once-crumbled soul.

"I can't believe you did it," she said, amazed at how alive his eyes were.

His eyes crinkled as he smiled. "I wanted to come earlier, but I had all this recuperation time."

She pulled his head down and kissed the scars next to his eyes. "I wanted to be there for you."

"I wish you had been. The nurses weren't nearly as hot as you."

She laughed, and he pulled her in for a kiss. She lost herself in it. Somehow… somehow she felt like she had been found.

Her smiles were back.

--

They entered The Palace, holding onto each other, smiling like school children, ignoring the admiring glances from the hotel staff that had been kept in the know about the young couple.

They groped each other in the elevator, hungrily kissing each other, pulling back and sharing looks that they hadn't shared before.

"God, I love you," he whispered into her mouth, and she felt her insides melting and becoming mush within her.

"You're so whipped, Bass," she laughed, and he kissed her again.

"Eww, blood," She cringed when a dribble from his nose landed on her lip. He laughed and wiped it off.

He pulled her out of the elevator and turned to his suite, the place where so many good memories had been shared. They didn't expect Serena to be sitting on the floor by the door, tears down her face.

"Serena!" She untangled herself from his arms and ran to her best friend.

"B… I heard Chuck was back," she whispered, eyes closed.

Chuck knelt before Serena and sniffed. "She's drunk as hell."

Blair gave him a worried look.

"Chuck!" Serena smiled, looking at him, eyes glazed. "You can see!"

"Let's get her inside," Blair said and helped him stand Serena up.

"You're bad," Serena slurred. "Leaving Blair… she cried." Serena's face crumbled. "And today, I cried."

Chuck led them into the suite and placed Serena on the couch, moving to get some water.

Blair sat next to Serena. "S?"

"I missed my SATs. Dan hates me." Serena was mumbling. "I… I hate Georgina."

Chuck froze and looked over at Blair.

"Crazy bitch is back," she informed him. He sighed and shook his head.

By the time they got Serena showered and dressed in Chuck's robe, the blonde was drooling on his pillows and sprawled on the bed.

Blair sighed, rubbing her neck before turning to look for Chuck, who had ordered them food. "Feels like old times," he said, motioning for her to join him on the couch as he opened the room service plates.

She sat next to him, placing her head on his shoulder and wrapping her arms around him.

He stopped what he was doing and turned to return her embrace.

"I'm sorry about Nate," she whispered against his shoulder.

He tensed a bit, then held her closer.

"I just missed you so much… and he was yelling and so angry…" She closed her eyes tightly. "God, I was angry with you."

"I know," he said, quietly, his hand making slowly circling patterns on her back.

"I also thought I was pregnant," she admitted, taking a broccoli from his fingers and munching on it.

He stopped the circling and pulled back to stare at her. His eyes were wide, so she smiled. "False alarm."

"You thought you were pregnant?" He asked.

"Yeah," she sighed, going for a cauliflower. "For a whole day."

He touched her face. "You would've told me, right?"

"Told you?" She snapped, the cauliflower in her hand waving dangerously. "I would've found your blind ass and dragged you back to New York, made you raise the baby, and named him Charlie!"

This made a smile break out on his face. "At least it wouldn't have been Audrey."

She smiled and kissed him.

"I've missed you," he admitted. "I thought about calling you everyday, but…"

He looked down.

"Don't look down." She pulled his face up. "I want to be able to see your eyes for the rest of my life."

His face darkened and he pulled away.

"What?" she asked.

His jaw twitched. "I…"

She moved closer. "Don't close up. Please don't close up."

"Blair… the procedure…" He studied her. "It's not permanent. It decays slowly. It takes a couple of years… but I'll be blind again."

Her stomach felt like ice and she bit her lip.

"Maybe not in a year or five… but eventually. Eventually I'll wake up one day and be blind once more." He scratched his chin, sighing. "I'll have to accept it."

She straddled his lap and pressed her forehead against his. "I told you once it didn't matter. It still doesn't."

He sighed and pulled her close. "I know I was selfish."

"Yes, you were. You were a selfish bastard, Chuck Bass, and I can't believe I had to go and fall in love with you."

He let out a chuckle. "I'm glad you did."

"Horrible! Do you know what I had to endure?" She demanded, glaring down at him.

She would've delineated what she had gone through, but there was a harsh knock on the suite door and he groaned, standing to answer it.

When he pulled the door opened there stood Nate with a black eye and a scowl on his face.

"Of course," Nate said when he spotted Blair.

Chuck stood before his best friend and glared down at him.

"Leave her out of it." Chuck snapped. Nate bristled and walked in, going straight for the bar.

Blair stood from her spot on the couch and went to stand by Chuck as Chuck stared Nate down.

"What are you doing here, Nathaniel?" Chuck asked, his hands in his pocket.

Nate grabbed a bottle from the shelf and yanked it open.

"So…" Nate stated. "I feel better than I've felt for months, you know."

The couple watched him as he took a large gulp and the grimaced. "This shit taste like… shit."

"The 1878 is better," Chuck offered, and Nate threw him an angry glare.

"Lower your voice. Serena is sleeping," Blair told him, and Nate looked in on the blonde. He shook his head and moved to close the door because apparently he had no intention of keeping his voice down.

Nate turned to them slowly.

"Blair," he began, and she grabbed Chuck's arm. "I'm not here to yell." He had noticed the way she stepped behind Chuck. Blair swallowed as she saw her ex-boyfriend spare them a glance before taking another swing of liquor.

"That night… no one remembered but me." He slowly walked to the couch and plopped down on it, bottle still in his hand.

Chuck walked closer to Nate.

"I… God… it doesn't even matter now. You're all cured." Nate waved his hand vaguely at Chuck.

"What happened that night, Nathaniel?" Chuck demanded, his stance sharp and stoic.

Nate looked at him and then looked away because Chuck always had the most intense stare.

"That day… you warned me against Carter, but I didn't want to listen. So I left you at O'Brady's and went to a game Carter invited me to. A card game. A high stakes game," Nate sighed, placing his head in his hands.

Blair swallowed.

"Carter manipulated me, and I lost about ten grand. I realized he was using me all too late, but you arrived at the last minute and you… you saved me."

Nate looked right at Chuck, and Chuck nodded, as if he didn't need thanks in saving him.

"So we came back here because I wanted to pay you back, and that's when I found my trust fund drained. Dad had done it. I'm pretty sure now it had something to do with the embezzling he was doing," he said bitterly.

He looked up at Blair. "It was still early, so we decided to go for some drinks, and we ended up in Harlem and a bit drunk. It was only about eleven pm when we got into the limo."

Chuck sat across from Nate while Blair stood behind Chuck, her hand on his shoulder.

Nate looked right at Chuck. "I confessed to you that I was still infatuated with Serena," he spit out, upset at himself.

Blair looked away, but Chuck grabbed her hand and squeezed it.

"You told me I had to make a choice because it wasn't fair." He looked at Blair and swallowed. "You were right."

Nate's eyes glazed and he looked on ahead, as if he were alone once more.

"Then… the limo made a sudden stop, and Chuck got out to see what was happening. I was so drunk, but I remember a fight. I ran out to help Chuck. Some of the guys from the card game were beating him up, so I jumped in. Some guy threw me against the wall, and that's how I broke my arm."

Chuck blinked, attempting to remember, but shook his head at the failed attempt.

"They dragged us into the limo and locked us inside. Then they set it on fire. They set the driver's area on fire, but we didn't know. We didn't know it was on fire. I was in so much pain, so you, Chuck, you slid to the window that divided the driver's area and opened the compartment. When the window slid down…." Nate stopped and took a drink then looked right at Chuck. "When the window slid down, the smoke hit you full in the face."

He stopped talking. Blair closed her eyes, then walked around the couch and sat next to Chuck.

Nate looked lost and confused, staring off as if he were there once more, reliving the moment.

"He pulled back, screaming, and fell on the chair," Nate said softly, and Blair saw tears on his cheeks. "I kicked a window and broke it and was able to get the door opened. I then dragged him out. He was… it was awful. The screams…"

Blair slid next to Chuck, and he wrapped his arm around her as he stared at his best friend.

"I called the police, and I sat with him. I knew… I just knew he was blind. So I sat with him and I kept telling him I was sorry because I knew it was my fault. He had tried to warn me about Carter, but I was just so desperately unhappy."

Nate went on as if none of them were in the room.

Blair didn't realize she was crying until a tear fell on her hand.

"So I kept saying I was sorry," he repeated. "And then…" Nate looked up as if seeing Chuck for the first time. "You said just before you went unconscious. You said 'I care about three things, Nathaniel. Money, the pleasures money brings me, and you.'"

Blair pressed her hand over her eyes because she could see Chuck saying that. She could almost hear his voice. Burnt face and all, still loyal to the end.

Nate took three gulps from the bottle and set it down loudly on the table.

"But the truth is… the truth is you lied. Didn't you?" He asked softly. "Because you cared about her, even then."

Chuck looked down, his jaw sharpening.

"Yeah…" Nate said softly and let a small laugh. "I should've known. I should've known the day I walked in on Blair fixing your tie. I should've known when I found you two sleeping together, and especially when I saw you two dancing at the Masquerade. When I watched her get in the limo and head to Victrola, a sick part of me hoped that you would distract her, so I could get her off my back."

Blair sunk back, feeling like such a fool. Chuck stared intently at Nate, saying not a word.

"So I'm not mad… I just… I'm glad you can see, man." Nate reached for the bottle, but Chuck reached out and grabbed it from him, studying him.

Chuck sat back and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I hit you," he said, indicating Nate's black eye.

"I'm sorry I hit you, too," Nate nodded. "And I'm sorry about Blair."

Blair looked at Nate, confused.

"I knew she was in love with you, and I still… I still kissed her." Nate gave Blair a gentle look. "I knew she wasn't thinking about me."

Chuck slowly smiled. "Nathaniel, I believe you just became interesting."

Nate smiled and leaned forward. "How does it feel to see again?"

Chuck cleared his throat and threw Blair a glance. She understood it without him saying a word. She nodded, squeezing his hand and joined Serena in his bed. He wanted time alone with Nate – especially to tell him the sight was temporary.

She didn't realize she fell asleep until much later when she felt someone brush her hair back from her face. Her lashes fluttered and smiled as she saw him watching her as she slept.

"Wish number two," he whispered so as not to wake Serena.

Blair's brows furrowed.

"To watch you sleep," he said quietly, sitting on the bed next to her.

"You have a list?" She smirked. He nodded, taking her hand and kissing it.

"I promise you that before it happens you will see all those things." She told him.

He played with her fingers with a smile on his face.

"One of them is to see the look on Whoregina's face as we bring her down." He glanced at Serena's scrunched up face. "And she's family now… I suppose my wish list doesn't have to go in order."

"You have an idea."

"It's fucking brilliant, baby," he smirked, and the butterflies in her stomach shivered in anticipation.

She sat up and looked at him eye-to-eye. "You're going to have to ask my dad."

His brows furrowed. "Ask him what?"

"Well, I expect you to be able to admire me in my wedding dress, you bastard."

--

Chuck's plan had been brilliant, and there was no need to share it with Serena, who apparently thought she had killed someone, or with Nate, who was busy crossing the bridge to Brooklyn.

She did have time to cut Jenny Humphrey down so swiftly that Chuck's approval as she dropped the gay bomb twinkled through his eyes. He left her that night to hang out with Eric who seemed to need company and she smiled as she watched them walk away because Chuck Bass had always wanted a family. And now he had gotten his wish.

In school people couldn't get enough of Chuck Bass.

"So, blind boy is back," a voice hissed behind her, and her eyes narrowed. It was high time she put this tattooed skunk in his place.

She turned around, looking down at him past her nose.

"Please don't come near me again," she said with the highest of civilities, which of course was UES talk for 'fuck off'.

Colt smirked at her and looked her up and down. He started down by her skirt, then up to her face… and then he blanched. She felt Chuck's arm go around her shoulders and pin Colt down with his gaze.

"Find something you like?" Chuck's deep voice was close to her ear.

"No, mate. Just browsing," Colt had thrown her a wink and pranced away.

Chuck turned slowly and studied her.

She shifted a bit and decided it was no use in hiding. He could see it written all over her face. "The rebound guy."

Chuck turned and studied the guy, a look of disgust as Colt mounted his bike and helped a short-skirted sophomore sit behind him.

"Him?" He asked incredulously.

"He smelled like you," she shrugged and brought him down for a kiss.

Chuck pulled back and studied her. "He _smelled_ like me?"

A smirk formed on her face. "You jealous, Bass? 'Cause it's cute on you."

That night they were finally able to get Serena out of his suite long enough for their clothes to come off. And when he finally saw her naked his face changed completely.

"Wish number three," he whispered, running his hand over the expanse of her flat stomach.

She flushed under his gaze, thinking she preferred him blind.

"Don't be shy, come here."

And he had pulled her before a mirror. She stood naked in front of it, and he was also naked behind her. With his hands he guided her to touch her own body.

"You," he whispered against her ear as his hands guided her own around her chest. "Are stunning."

She never considered herself fat after that.

--

He glared at Ann the first time she introduced them.

"And this is daddy," she had told the dog in a chipper voice.

Ann wagged her tail.

"Ann?" He asked, brow raised.

"Princess Ann, like in-"

"Roman Holiday," he finished, still very skeptical. She nodded, happy with his ability to recall each and every thing she enjoyed.

They went to walk Ann in the park that afternoon, lazily holding each other's hands as the spring blossomed around them.

"Hilda retired, by the way," he said casually. She stopped and turned to study him.

"She was like in her 40's." Blair said, still suspicious.

He shrugged. "She apparently came upon a sudden inheritance."

"Charles Bartholomew Bass, what did you do?" She demanded as Ann dug a hole.

He smirked and looked around the park. "Nothing, Waldorf. Nothing at all." But she still smiled at him because she was proud.

Many people didn't know this, but Chuck Bass had a heart, and those few that knew it knew it was probably bigger than most. Because he chose very carefully those that he would love and, once he put you on that list, he would give you the world – and he could afford the world, so it worked to his advantage.

He didn't treat her like glass, but he enjoyed placing her on a pedestal every moment he could. When he stared at her, she felt the world vanish. But even when he wasn't, he was always attuned to her. He knew when she was upset, without even bating a lash; he knew when he should walk away.

She was also learning to read him like an open book. Like she knew he'd been meaning to ask her something since they first began their walk, and he still hadn't been able to. He was afraid.

Not in the 'I will run away' way – he had already run away- but more in the 'I don't know if you'll agree' way.

"You have something to say to me, Bass?" she asked casually as Dorota took Ann from her hand.

He clicked his tongue and walked around her living room, pausing and lounging over his favorite chair. Her throne. She went to him and lay next to him.

This was more than just nice; this was perfect.

She no longer considered him sharp, his sharpness had settled into her and now she knew those cliff edges well – she had traveled them and survived. She had scraped her knees and cried a bit, but dusted herself off and walked on. And her love made her stronger than ever. When she had been 'in love' with Nate it made her weak and needy. Loving Chuck made her legs feel strong and able to with withstand a storm; he had buffed her and she was now shiny and pure.

Serena asked her how she was sure she loved him.

She said she loved him blindly.

And she was not afraid of falling, because he was holding her hand.

"The wedding is next week," he said to her, playing with a stray curl from her head.

She nodded. "Best man speech going well?"

He smirked at her. "There won't be a dry eye in the house."

She wouldn't expect any less. Especially not from Chuck Bass.

"So… I need a date." he didn't look at her, and she realized that she was ok with that. Chuck didn't need to look at her for her to know him.

"You asking me out, Bass?" She inquired, playing with the scarf.

"Something like that."

They were quiet.

"Ok," she finally said. "But with one condition."

He gave her that smile. That smile that lasted only a second but was pure and true. "You name it."

"You better dance with me."

He stopped playing with her hair and stood up abruptly. She was left lonely on the chair. He walked to the other room and, as he walked back in, she heard the sounds of their waltz slowly filtering from the study. She smiled and let out a small laugh. He walked in, shed his coat, and gave her a small bow.

He held out his hand and smiled at her. She nodded and stood up, letting him take her in his arms.

He held her properly as they danced quietly in the small space.

She didn't know how to feel: a man couldn't possibly be this perfectly imperfect. Otherwise, he'd be Prince Charming.

"I know I've done some horrible things in the past, even for me," he said quietly as he looked at her.

"You mean like leaving me alone for months without a word and getting a dangerous operation just to watch me sleep?" She smiled. "You're forgiven."

They were quiet.

"I know I've also done some horrible things," she said after a while.

"You mean like sleeping with Nate?" He asked, still studying her. "And kissing some random tattooed guy?"

"What's your point?" she asked.

"What's yours?" he replied.

"I suppose we're not the most pleasant people," she agreed.

"Most can't stand us," he put in.

"It's a miracle we stand each other," she nodded.

He leaned in and kissed her, smiling into her mouth. "We could… take it slow. Do it right."

A smile spread over her face. "Chuck Bass is a romantic. Who knew?"

He leaned in; his voice was low and husky. "Now you do. And that's all that matters."

She pulled his head down until their foreheads touched. "That's all that matters," she confirmed.

--

_October 5__th__, 2015_

_Blair got me this leather bound journal so I could write, but I don't write. I'm not a writer nor a poet nor a romantic. I'm just me. I'm just Chuck Bass, and I don't need to put any feelings onto paper. So I'm writing the first entry to make her happy._

* * *

_December 12__th, __2015_

_When I woke today, I realized it would be happening soon, and it filled me with fear. Even though I have seen all the items on my list, I still became violently scared. The more I live, the more things I want to see, and the more I realize I haven't experienced._

_After I watched Blair sleep for a while, I walked to our daughter's room and watched her sleep, because I became so very afraid that I would forget her face and the way her chest slowly rises and falls._

_I didn't tell Blair, but I told Nate. He looked away because I knew he still felt responsible, regardless of the fact that I made sure those men were permanently in prison. I still see the heaviness in my friend's eyes because we were such fools as children. Such fools._

_

* * *

__December 22, 2015_

_I prayed to God today. I prayed for the first time, because I wanted to be able to see my daughter's first Christmas. It took a full five minutes before things became clear as I woke this morning. I was so afraid that this was it. So I'm afraid of sleeping because I'm afraid of that 'one day,' when the five minutes will last the rest of my life._

_I think Blair knows, because she looks at me more often. Like she can't tear her gaze away. I feel sadness because even though I know my Queen can handle anything, it'll still be hard on her._

* * *

_December 25__th__, 2015_

_Apparently God listens, because I can still see my 10 month-old make a mess out of our living room as she happily tears all the expensive wrapping paper to a million pieces. It was worth it, I tell myself as I watch her – Blair laughing as she takes pictures. So we can see them later. So that Blair can see them later._

_It's cold in New York this time of year, and Roberta warms herself on my feet. Roberta is Ann's puppy. Poor Ann died earlier in the year. Blair had Roberta trained as a seeing-eye dog behind my back, and now I think the animal senses her time is coming because she doesn't leave my side. _

_I think Blair knows because I was never close to the animals, but I let Roberta warm my feet._

* * *

_December 28__th__, 2015_

_I prayed to God a second time today, because I just wanted to see Blair one last time as I kissed her Happy New Year. Just one more time, I asked him. Just one more time._

_This morning when I woke, Blair was watching me and her eyes were sad but accepting. "It's happening, isn't it?" She asked me quietly, and I touched her face like I used to do in those months of darkness. The same darkness that was now close at my heels._

_She cried, and I watched her. That was not something on my list._

_I don't believe in fate or karma, but I know I wasn't the most pleasant person in my youth. I actually know I'm still not the most pleasant person. Maybe this is what happens? Maybe not. _

* * *

_January 7__th__, 2016_

_It happened as I took a nap with my daughter in my arms. I closed my eyes and enjoyed her utter love and devotion and then… and then the darkness came. I knew it the moment I woke. I knew this was it. This was the moment. _

_I had seven years._

_I sat up, still cradling my daughter and snapped for Roberta who was close and nearby. _

"_Get Blair," I told the dog quietly, and she understood. _

_I heard her steps as she approached me, and I smiled softly. She still walked the same, so I would always know when she was near. _

"_Chuck?" She asked, and I could sense that desperation in her voice._

"_Take the baby," I told her, and I felt her press her lips on my forehead once the baby was back in her arms. _

_I petted Roberta as she sat dutifully next to me when Blair came back without the baby and sat on my lap, like she always did._

_She rested her head on my shoulder, and I remembered how beautiful she had always looked doing that._

_I felt the wetness of her tears dribble on my neck, and I held her closer. This time she didn't wet my lashes with false hopes. My Blair was now grown up._

_Her lips found my lashes, and I felt her press a kiss to them, just like she did our first night together. _

"_I don't care that you're blind," she repeated against my face. And I didn't, either. Not any more. I was done being scared. _

_I was always a gambling man, and this was the card the house had dealt me. _

_I think back on the days before the accident, and I wonder if it hadn't happened, what would my life be like now?_

_If Blair hadn't walked into my room as I dreamt of burning alive, what would've happened? If Nate hadn't pulled me out of the car, what would've happened? If Blair had never showed up at my suite to shake me back to life, what would've happened?_

_Would she be sitting on my lap now? Would our daughter be asleep in the room next door? Would we have hurt each other beyond repair? Would she now be an Archibald while I was completely unhappy?_

_It doesn't matter, it really doesn't. Every step I have taken in my life has led me to this very moment. The choices I've made, the people I've loved and hurt. _

_I prayed to God for a third time today and, at this rate, I might as well convert because we're having an awful lot of conversations. I asked him to never let me forget. _

_He's been pretty sharp so far. If I were a betting man, which I am, I would bet I won't forget. _

_I decide I won't write any more on this diary. I'm not a writer nor a poet nor a romantic. I'm just me. I'm just Chuck Bass, and I don't need to put any feelings onto paper. So I'm writing this last entry to make me happy._

_**I don't love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz**_

_**or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:**_

_**I love you as **__**certain dark things**__** are loved,**_

_**secretly, between the shadow and the **__**soul**__**.**_

_**I love you as the plant that doesn't **__**bloom**__** and carries**_

_**hidden within itself the light of those flowers,**_

_**and **__**thanks to your love**__**, darkly in my body**_

_**lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth.**_

_**I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,**_

_**I love you simply, without problems or **__**pride**__**:**_

_**I love you in this way because **__**I don't know any other way of loving**_

_**but this, in which **__**there is no I or you**__**,**_

_**so **__**intimate**__** that your hand upon my chest is my hand,**_

_**so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your **__**eyes**__** that close.**_

_**Sonnet XVII – Pablo Neruda**_

--

The End

AN: Well, I hope you all enjoyed the story I brought you here. Let me know if you liked it, if you hated it, if you hate me :) I've done a few other pieces, perhaps not as bittersweet as this one but others. Thank you all for those of you who always encouraged me at the end of each chapter. Thank you very much!!


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